The Long Road Ahead
by Vault Buster
Summary: The Drifter, a travelling legend places himself in the next line of insane experiments by the Think-Tank. Being the first inter-dimensional traveler, hewas transported to the deserts of Menagerie on a perilous journey to learn the bright wonders of the planet, as well as the infectious evil that propagates inside this strange world (Takes place 3 months before the events of RWBY)
1. Chapter 1

The Drifter kicking his leg during his slumber while the gleam of morning began to bloom, a slight groan and a swear from under his breath always marked the first words before waking back into the Hell hole that was the Mojave. Opening his eyes he looks at the "Good Luck Charms" as he calls them line the walls of an overturned tractor trailer container, they mostly consisted of destroyed or cracked Legion masks, and especially a pair of modified power armor. As of right now though, this was his last concern, he was just happy to be out of that horrible office. Not just any office mind you, but _the_ office. Shivering just from the vile thoughts about it, he still had nightmares of the mountains of paperwork. From requests that required high command to verify to looking at shipment catalogs. It was _Terrible_. Sure, he was seeing awesome gear go by due to the manufacturing centers built (Almost wholeheartedly built by Big Mountain) It was still almost a pain to handle when they even manufactured way too many pieces of equipment. From the time that they forgot to make an 'Off' button for the T-45 manufacturing line leading to a huge bulk and surplus of power armor that practically is still being sold for free. Though, this small issue didn't bother him in the slightest, in fact, he was happy at where he was. He remembered spending his time as being the only companion to completely stick with both the Courier and the Lone Wanderer all the way to their deaths, and that while they have died, he has carried on their legacy. It was enough to leave a tear in his eye. But he didn't want to get emotional. He decided to reflect on everything that has happened and appreciate the chance he has had. All the way those years ago

Hailing from the south in Vault 109 with the luck of being birthed into the control variable of Vault-Tec's disgusting experiments. He lived a happy life, a life as normal as it could get living in a wasteland. He always cared to be the adventurous kind, the one that accepted the job to deliver letters to a village near the vault. It was always a short walk but it paid well with the caps, and being 12 at the time, he saw this as the perfect chance to prove his family he can venture to the other town.

"But, Dad! You know I can handle myself against the coyotes and the smaller Radscorpions!" The Younger Drifter pleaded to his father

"I'm sorry, but Raider attacks are getting more common around here. But I'll let this be your last run, and Ian has already agreed to go with you." The father looked at his son worryingly

"I get it…" The Drifter said dejectedly, and tuned and about face and walked away while a smirk grew on it ' _Even if you don't agree with it… I'm still going to run the jobs.'_

His final job while not interesting was going to be during the day, unlike when he usually does it during dusk.

Packing his gear. Food for the trip, his hunting rifle and the usual vault suit. He wasn't regretting this last job in the slightest as he was going to lie to his father. He was always the troublemaker.

"You know what you're doing dude?" Ian asked with a shaky voice.

"Yeah, of course I do. My dad only wants you with me because you're larger." The Drifter replies bitterly.

"But w-what if a raider appears?"

"Ian. What the Hell do you think we do?" The Drifter says while pointing at his rifle.

"But… That would kill him."

"No shit, Ian listen. I'm human too. I don't want to kill anybody. But if needed it's gotta be someone who has to do the job!"

Walking up to the metal gates of their town, The Drifter signals the guard to open the door and a few slight seconds the metallic doors creak on by opening outwards.

Taking the first steps out of the gate horrified Ian, he never left the town before and he kept thinking why they would they send him out. Of all the people Ian had to be the one, the one to escort his friend out, sure he was large, but he was gentle giant! It was probably that people saw it sad that he was almost 20 and was absolutely terrified of even approaching the town gates. Still, leaving the city and having someone experienced to guide him was uplifting slightly, just a little but he was still scared shitless.

"So… Ian, what's the chances of us running into a raider?" The Drifter asked with an innocent grin while walking down a dirt path

"R-R-Raider!? But I mean… What raider would do that?" Ian replied with a panicky vigor

"Oh I dunno. One that's so drugged out that they don't feel pain, or they're just really prepared or just ballsy. I dunno whatever floats yer' boat. I'd prefer a ballsy raider. Because it doesn't guarantee that they're drugged to High Hell and back or that they're gonna be waiting to ambush us with a minigun, for all we know, he thinks he can kill us all with a spork." The Drifter replied weighing out the options.

"Yeah… But… Let's just keep going like we have been doing…" Ian says while twiddling his thumbs.

"Yeah sure Ian…" The Drifter replies grinning evilly.

They arrived at the town, it was really a huge melting pot where you would see unlikely groups together. Remnant Enclave soldiers with retired Brotherhood of Steel members laughing in bars and washed up raiders deciding to turn their life around. It was actually a wonderful sight but Ian didn't see it as this. No, he saw this as the place where all the dangerous people congregated, anybody who had an ounce of what looked like that they had killed someone before Ian was afraid ' _Maybe I should've played sick and stayed home.'_ Ian thought.

"Yeesh Ian, you look like you're about to shit yourself. These guys are cool." The Drifter gives an uplifting smile and pats Ian on the back,

"I-If you say so…" Ian replies back stuttering.

Minutes later, a man with scars that reeked with experience, a beard scruffier than steel wool, and hair as white as snow confronted the two boys.

"Hey there sonny! O'er here!" The enthusiastic old man bellows to the two boys.

"Roddy!" The Drifter shouted with glee and ran up to the old man like a child would do for his father after a long day's worth of work.

"Hey there kiddo! Glad to see you back again. What's been going on?" Roddy heartily laughs ruffling the Drifter's hair.

"Well, I was able to find time and get some Abraxo so I can rub out the rust on my rifle!" The Drifter gladly hands his rifle to Roddy, leaving Ian speechless at the transaction.

"I see, that one-piece bolt mechanism was the main reason that I even suggested this for your father to buy. It's nice and hardy. But hey, after you turn those letters in, I'll show you two something special, come by my place alright?"

"Yessir Roddy!" and with that, Roddy was off to the bar, probably trying to hit on that cute bartender he always liked.

A few seconds pass by until Ian decided to exist again and ask the Drifter a question.

"So… Who was he? He smelt of alcohol, and acted drunk a bit." Ian asked hesitantly.

"He's one of the coolest people you'll meet! He was an Enclave member before retiring. But that's not all!" The Drifter said excitedly, "He was part of the old, Squad Sigma. He "retired". Though he actually deserted when he found out that they were going to forcefully retire him to a life of office work."

"Oh… Shouldn't we hurry to deliver those letters?" Ian asked?

"Yeah, forgot about that almost" The Drifter replied, " It's over here by the general store."

Entering the Post office revealed a musty interior, full with letter boxes, and crates visible in the back. There was Cheryl who waved when the two entered the building.

"Hey Cub! Seems like you brought a friend huh?" Cheryl asked eyeing Ian with a lustful stare and a well-earned gulp from Ian "And a rather handsome one at that. Where'd you find him? He be good pickin's for a lady…"

"Oh come on Chery." The Drifter sighed, "Don't bust his balls…"

"Oh, I'm sorry that you brought in a fine young man," Cheryl said with mock offense.

"But anyway Cheryl, I got the letters I'll drop them off in the back." The Drifter said walking by her.

"Alright you do that," Cheryl called back.

Ian tried to slip by as well only to be stopped dead in his tracks by Cheryl

"Sorry, hun... Only for _employees_ " Cheryl licked her lips making Ian shiver in utter dissatisfaction, "Not for nice hunks like you." Gazing up and down his body she freezes, "You're acting too innocent. I forgot you're a Vault Dweller huh? I doubt you kissed a girl before."

"Well…" Ian interjects.

"Sorry hun, your mom doesn't count" Cheryl blurts out.

"Oh…" Ian looks down embarrassed.

A few seconds pass until the Drifter sprints from the rear of the Post office.

"Come on! I wanna see what Roddy wants to show!" The Drifter does a death grip on Ian's shoulder and they hustle out of the post office and run across the town to see Roddy in the small house with his trusty bottle of whiskey in hand. A large blue tarp covers a large figure behind him and a few smaller towels wrapping up guns revealing almost making the Drifter jittering in anticipation

"Bout damn time you kids!" Roddy laughs with a gruff sound, "I wanna you something alright? But don't tell your folks about this, alright kiddo?"

"Yessir Roddy!" The Drifter excitedly bobs up and down.

Roddy pulls off the blue tarp with grandeur revealing the hulking mass of power armor. It's sheer size with the angled and sharp shoulder pads and smooth helmet with two gasmask filters were an awe inspiring sight to see. It was a direct sign of pure strength and protection. The rifles were then stripped naked from the rags that concealed them to show modified plasma rifles, custom made laser rifles, even an FN FAL.

"Roddy… Wh-what's all this?" The Drifter completely took aback by the entire display of weaponry.

"Well, you see… I'm getting old and I need a next of kin. So when my time comes kiddo. I want you to wear the power armor at funeral as my wish and it'll all be yours." Roddy almost whispers.

"I will Roddy…" The Drifter says with a smile on his face

"Yeah, kiddo. But your pa is probably worryin' about ya now. I think you should scurry on out." Roddy pats both the shoulders of the Drifter and Ian in a father-like fashion.

* * *

It's been an hour since leaving the town and it's already dusk as both Ian and the Drifter makes their way back home to their own town.

"Hey… So Roddy is really gonna give _all that…_ To you?" Ian asks giving the Drifter a strange look.

"Why of course he is. He trusts me." The Drifter replies matter-of-factly.

The sky was already getting darker, but they would be back before the moon settles where the Sun was. This still doesn't comfort Ian who is horrified beyond all recognition

"Dude. let's hurry back…" Ian

"I know Ian, but the more panicky you get, the more nerve racking you are." the Drifter sighs out.

"H-how about I jog a little bit ahead?" Ian sputters in a fearful shiver.

"Fine, go." The Drifter says bluntly.

With confirmation, Ian doesn't just jog. No. He goes for a full sprint leaving the Drifter, absolutely horrified ' _What a fucking puss_ ' The Drifter thought.

A minute passes by, with Ian still in sight a raider suddenly jumps from the side of the trail covered in leaves and smashes Ian's face in with the butt of his rifle

" _Ian!_ " The Drifter screams in fear. Horrified the Drifter pulls up his rifle and aims center of mass. One shot the raider is down and blood splatters Ian.

"Ian! Are you okay!?" The Drifter cries out. A few seconds pass with no answer until Ian finally heeds his answer, unluckily for the Drifter a giant metal fist grabs him by the shoulder with bone crushing strength and yanks him to the height of the villain.

A tall metal clad figure stands in a cocoon of makeshift metal plating standing almost 9 feet tall.

"You fucked with the wrong people you piece of _shit_!" The raider howls in the Drifter's face leaving him only to grimace.

The Raider throws the small frame into the forest and goes into a full charge to completely crush the Drifter, all he could do now was turn tail and run.

' _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck'_ The Drifter thought. He ran with all his might in the other direction now lost in the dark forest. Running past the extra gang members turned and began to unleash a flurry of lead down range to the rapid retreating Vault Dweller. He kept his sprint even when his every breath began to burn like hot daggers he kept running, he didn't know where but he kept running until his legs completely gave way.

"Oh _shit…_ " He huffs in between each word, "Ian is so fucked…" The Drifter's realization scared him to death knowing Ian might be dead or torn apart. But it didn't matter now. He was too far away to help and he was dead tired. So he began to huddle beside a tree surrounded by shrubbery and closed his eyes waiting for the nightmare to leave until sleep overcame him.

* * *

The Drifter was already up. Tired of looking at his little trophies he grumpily rolled his sleeping bag packed up his precious possessions and headed back into the Mojave.

"I swear, this beats the office by fucking _miles!"_ , The Drifter exclaims in delight of his freedom, "No fuckin' papers, no damn worries about running your own fucking military, No issues about Legion or NCR trying to play some funny shit. This is _the life!_ " Looking left and right, the Drifter now had many locations to move to and explore now.

His first little journey will now lead to anywhere but the dump he crashed in last night.

 **Now, I hope this was a good introductory chapter to explain the character. His history with the Lone Wanderer and Courier 6, of course, the timeline is gonna be changed so he can stay a young age. But besides that. I hope you don't mind the horribly long chapter. I just want some introduction and lead up before the Drifter lands on Remnant. Please do review if you can guys. I'll respond to them in the Author's note here at the bottom.**


	2. Chapter 2

It was boring, there was _nothing_ to see. Just some random ghost towns and some scattered settlements he already knew about. It wasn't the most exciting adventure. That was until realization struck when he remembered that he allowed the Think Tank work on a new Transportalponder. At least that's what he thought from the bickering he could piece together by the floating color-coated jars. It went along the lines like this.

* * *

"So this is more or less allows me to explore interdimensional mumbo-jumbo?" The Drifter cocked his head at the device while both Klein and Borous glanced at each other and then back to the Drifter

"Yes! Yes indeed! You see lobotomite, this is an unfinished device. It has a plug for your Pip-Boy to act as a monitor to catalog the planet and-slash-or dimension you visited. Best of all. You can use it… INDOORS!" Klein boasted like the crazy scientist he is with added 'hand gestures' or as close as you can get to hand gestures with only three monitors to use.

"So tell me this Klein; When is this new Transportalponder going to be completed? I mean, it's nice and all but you have to remember that while I am willing to accept your experiments and test them I also have to run New Vegas. That isn't counting that I'm practically bordering California with tense relations with the NCR and us basically forcing the legion towards Oklahoma, We also had some weird shit of some advanced civilization in Canada near Vancouver." The Drifter explained before placing the new Transportalponder on a weird robotic trolley that carried the device off

"I see my friend. But have no worry. I'm actually managing your assembly line now. Not these buffoons." The Monitor sputtered on with Mobius' image, "Now. I remember you gave me an order for a few extra DC-3's for transport of goods. Worry not I can produce these as well."

"Sup Mobius, thanks for taking a look at that order. But I'll have to take my leave." The Drifter leaves giving a small wave. Just another day as a leader in his line of work. Nothing major just thousands of lives depending on his judgment.

* * *

"Woo boy… This is gonna be a doozy." The Drifter slurred to himself for the distaste for the dreaded unnecessarily long introduction of the new Transportalponder.

Pulling out his Transportalponder from the bottomless pit known as his coat pocket, he hesitantly pulled the trigger and transported _heh_ himself to the sink and boarded the elevator for the grand finale.

The elevator ride for some reason was always enjoyable. It had a nice soothing hum and some synthesized piano playing for the music, nice and quiet, and he was going to need _all_ of the quiet time he can get before being pushed to the madness that is the Think Tank again.

The blissful music came to a soft close as the doors opened. It looked like the Think Tank wasn't in some huge existential crisis this time seeing as how all have their backs turned.

"Well guys," The Drifter struts confidently out of the elevator, "I see you guys decided to pour some bottles of ADHD medicati-"

"Lobotomite!" A wild Klein almost flings his metallic body to the Drifter nearly squashing him.

"What the fuck!" The Drifter almost sent his fist through Klein's glass dome if it wasn't for the pacification array.

"We have… PERFECTION!" Klein like a teen girl fawning over the popular boy quickly had the same robotic trolley whiz on by with the working Transportalponder Mk II

"So it's finished?" The Drifter asks skeptically.

"Of course it is! We need you for research. I presume you've made your little faction run autonomously without you for a short while correct?"

"Yes… Klein. I did, it was a bitch." The Drifter shuddered at the paperpocolypse that was his office. Mountains of paper, papers stacked in boxes, and worst of all was his wrist afterwards. He couldn't even shoot straight for a week after first getting in that office.

"Perfect! Dala, I think you have a small gift to give to further our efforts." Motioning his left eye monitor for Dala to come forward with a unique gift.

"Yes my little teddy bear, I have oversaw the development of a camera that can strap to your helmet," Dala presents the small camera as it also whizzes by on another dinky trolley, "This band is extra-strength elastic allowing you to strap it to multiple helmets if need be, and the videos can be transferred to holotapes. We expect you to give us reports on your findings. Any questions my dear, dear, dear teddy bear?"  
"Nope. Just readying my ass in case I land on Jupiter or some shit." The Drifter waved her off

Snatching the small camera from the trolley and stretching the elastic around his helmet before letting go and having a satisfy 'snap' on his metal helmet. Glancing to his left he saw the second trolley roll up to his feet presenting the Transportalponder. Just looking at the device it looked like some oversized laser pistol with a weird slot that could be opened to reveal the plug for the Pip-boy. Taking a mighty breath and slowly letting it out The Drifter was ready to withstand whatever Hell he might land too. Sure he could land on a planet where all the inhabitants thought he was a god, but at the same time, he could possibly be transported where he gets instantly ripped apart by a black hole or eaten alive by giant space worms. Not exactly the most reassuring thoughts.

"Fuck it. Let's do this." Grabbing the large pistol from the trolley the Drifter readied the device and held the trigger tightly down. Loud whirring emanated from the Transportalponder gradually getting louder and louder until it was just one giant screech. The Barrel finally glew a giant bright blue before a giant flash and the Drifter was gone…

In the dark of night in the inhospitable deserts of Menagerie far away from Faunus civilization, a bright flash of blue that could rival the sun in brightness that slowly faded, and a sound equivalent of a bomb going off that would even wake the heaviest sleepers, a single man stood in the center of it all. Armor cladding is body armed to the teeth for this new expedition.

"What the fuck!" Screaming in the pain that his ears were having from the sound of the new Transportalponder, "I thought they would test this shit first!" A few minutes from writhing in pain the Drifter looked up to see the shattered Moon.

"Holy shit… Good to know I'm not in Kansas anymore." But with a few quick glances, it didn't matter. There was only one feature that the Drifter saw of this brand new landscape. Desert.

"Are you kidding me… I ended up in a desert…" ' _At least it's better than a black hole.'_ The Drifter didn't add to his complaining.

Exploring the desolate wasteland did show differences compared to his home, for one, it was more like Monument Valley. Sand every where meaning that sooner or later he's somehow gonna magically get sand in his underwear, all in all, this was too much of home.

Scanning the night sky he made sure his camera catch a good shot of the shattered moon, and some weird black creatures with very obvious glowing red eyes showing up in the night. Popping on nightvision he decided to take a scan through the horizon only to spot an oasis.

"Perfect." He muttered in anticipation. Breaking into a casual stroll he made his way towards the oasis completely dismissing the danger of this desert's creatures.

The stroll was quaint. The Desert night was comfortably cool, something he did cherish at home leaving him with a comforting sense of familiarity that was until a low growl interrupted him. Snapping his head to the right and readying his Survivalist Rifle, the Drifter activated VATS to see a black beast of great proportions just six yards away from him. Armadillo-like with white, bony, plating as the and a sharpened black snout that went into a sharp point. Even VATS offered no name for the creature, but that didn't matter, it will soon be gibbed by multiple 12.7mm's piercing its body

With four trigger pulls, the Armadillo exploded in a wonderfully gory mess the 12.7's tore through the creature

"Boom bitch!" Throwing two middle fingers to the dead creature, he haughtily taunted it, "That's what happens when you can't guard _your_ body for _SHI-!"_ The Drifter instantly paused as the creature began to quickly decompose and fade away, "The fuck…? Better grab a sample…" Without haste, he quickly fetched flesh from the dying creature. It was tender as if the flesh barely clung to the bones of the Armadillo. It was easy pickings for the Drifter before digitizing the quickly fading meat to his Pip-Boy.

It was a great start for sure! But what really piqued his interests was the oasis surely he saw a flash of light coming from there. He waited for a few seconds before... There it was again! Another flash! It wasn't bright by all means. But hey, it at least gave the Drifter a reason to hustle.

From a walk to a jog to an absolute mad sprint, he was _excited_! Sure he should be worried about the light in some way, shape or form. But who cared about that? He boxed with Deathclaws just for shits N' giggles before that got too stale for him.

It was not until that the light brightened again and being close enough, he pulled out his Circle of Steel rifle and scanned for the light for a few seconds before it appeared again. It looked like…. A building? It had the door opening over and over again as people or what he thought were people exiting and entering the building. Letting curiosity grab him by the balls he marched forward in prospects in seeing aliens that probably won't kill him. That was unless it was those little green fuckers again. Then he would just firebomb the entire place basking in the glory of their screams of pain. Hopefully, he wished this wasn't the case.

"Closer…. Closer…. Yes… Yeeess…" The Drifter whispered to himself like a maniac, "All this Knaaaawwwwledge." He was having fun, the feeling of discovering new places made his gut almost want to jump for joy and all the things he said was to simply entertain himself, he nearly forgot that he would have to give the video footage to the Think Tank and didn't even hit the realization that they would criticize everything he said in the footage.

He got as close as he could get before noticing that the building had much, much more behind it. That was when he had his "Holy shit" moment,

"I am literally on the border of a fucking city…" He mumbled to himself.

He saw people, that's right people. Bonafide, genuine people. At least, sorta… They had weird animal features; Rabbit ears, Cat ears, Antlers, Dog ears, even tails from cats, horses, cows, or foxes. It was…. Interesting to say the least but from what the Drifter could tell from the white masks. It was some stupid club meeting or some shit with bouncer… He was planning on introducing himself until it seems the bouncer outside the entrance decided to introduce himself first.

"Hey! What're you doing here!" The tall masked man with Antlers calls towards the Drifter's direction. It took a few seconds for the Drifter to realize that an alien was actually talking to him, and… It. Was. _Awesome._ He had to pause to think. He was speaking in English, and the Drifter pausing and not responding any further began to grant bigger problems as he closed in cautiously.

"Oh! I'm from the desert over back beyond me. I was sent to explore by my town to search for other people to make contact with." Sounding completely friendly, a _very_ stark contrast with his daunting appearance.

"Yeah. Bullshit. That desert is impossible to live in." the Faunus readies his awkward looking submachine gun as those in the line waiting are visibly distressed

"Hey, hey, hey, hey… Calm it. I ain't causin' trouble for y'all!" The Drifter quickly waves his hands nervously, "I'm a man just like you! Why so hostile?"

"How can I believe some random guy who looks nothing like us..." The Moose Faunus becomes more agitated as he readies his weapon aiming at the Drifter

"Wrong move…" The Drifter mutters under his breath. He whips out his Ranger Sequoia and lugs a .45-70 through the masked man splattering his brains all over anybody standing by.

"Ah… Shit…" The Drifter fucked up _bad_. Holstering his trusty pistol, he popped a trusty Stealth Boy giving him the sweet advantage of invisibility, he ran at full speed deeper into the city instantly leaving the clubhouse in the dust.

" _Shit! Fuck! Ass!"_ The Drifter cried out. Before the Stealth Boy wore off leaving him in the middle of a street. He slowed down and took deep breaths and collect his bearings

So far, he's in some city which looks like Hawaii or Maui with some weird Tiki shit, and he didn't make the best first impression. So far the first guy he met he blew his brains out. Not exactly the best decision, but it was instinct so he couldn't be blamed for it right?

' _Of course, I shouldn't be blamed. He pointed his gun at me for no reason_ ' The Drifter desperately reasoned in his head. It didn't help that some people came out of their homes, even from a sound such as that from such a far distance away people normally this far away wouldn't react like this. It probably didn't help either that people saw the helmeted wanderer in the streets.

Gazing left and right eyes were all looking at him. And the eyes looked like they… Glowed? Sighing, the Drifter was already regretting this experiment and the long night that will accompany it.

 **AN: Sorry for taking so long. I just have really bad writer's block. I just have issues on how my writing style should lean. When I try to go at it (heh heh) I end up making it feel... Stiff. I don't like it. If you guys have any ideas or questions then send me a PM but if you're a guest I can reply in the Author's note. As in, right here. Thanks for reading! Also don't forget to review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Well shit. I've been juggling on how my writing style goes, it just goes... Bleh... Not to mention all the errors I make (Probably due to me typing this shit up at 9:00pm to around 12:00 am) But I have no real good way to insert thoughts without making it seem kinda just-thrown-in-there or forced. Either one to be honest. Also I forgot to add this. Ahem... (Mainly adding this because it's common courtesy and I would feel like a thieving cunt for not doing so)**

 **Fallout is owned by Bethesda. (Hur Dur. Who would've guessed)**

 **RWBY is owned by Rooster Teeth.**

 **Hope you enjoy my slopped together mess. Sorry for the drastically decreased length as well!**

* * *

Each individual Faunus peered into the street with bright eyes glaring at the Drifter, who of course played it off as nothing. He just waltzed his way down the street annoyed with his first impression of this new world and the fact that he probably has an entire police force or army looking for him. Sure he could ditch the Riot Gear but that was _him_ and he considered it a second skin. Still, the night sky offered some relief as he strolled down the street looking at various closed shops like a tourist. That was until he came upon what could be the beach, and was it a mighty beach indeed! The sand looked soft and powdery and the ocean was picture perfect. Something you would see on a postcard and there was perfectly placed palm tree nearby. A perfect spot to crash for the night, that was if he was tired though since he technically just woke up. Didn't matter, morning was hopefully coming soon based on the moon.

Walking his way over to the shade under the palm tree, he bunched up a pile of sand like a pillow, and played holotape games all night including his _favorite,_ Grognak! Minutes passed on by, he was outright destroying this annoying as fuck goblin that caused him trouble. Every time he was about to finish the fucker off it always runs away with the most horrid noise that has ever came out of his Pip-Boy's speakers.

"Mother fucker! I'm gonna finally kill you!" ' _No you aren't_ ' his nagging, doubtful mind told him. After a few more hits the goblin pulled the same trick, laughing with the most god awful screech and then being forced back to the world map.

"You _bitch!_ " The Drifter smashed his spare hand into the monochrome screen giving a massive 'crack' sound. He paused, the screen was completely fine but his hand looked like he punched a tank. Broken, and crushed bones were expected.

"Fuck. What is this thing made of?" The Drifter peered at the broken hand again, _Maybe I should stop for tonight._ Laying his arms across on the sand he stared into the night sky until the morning light filled the sky.

* * *

It was morning, the Sun shone brightly as the sand was beginning to show their deep yellow. It didn't help that the Drifter was far too lazy to even pick himself up.

"It's morning already?" lazily tossing his head left caught glimpses of what looked like those weird animal people going to the beach, needless to say, some were _hot,_ others looked like… Well, they looked as if someone took all the pillows in the world and stuffed them into people. Not the most beautiful sight to wake up to see. Actually, scratch that he would _love_ to be awaken to the regular druggie raider trying to rob him at night.

Taking another another gaze around, some random kids were staring at him like he was some sort of attraction. It didn't matter, he wasn't going to spend the entire day there. He had an entire world to explore!

No one was going to stand in his way! No one!

"Hey! I told you he would move!" One random animal-boy with dog ears pointed at him wide eyed

"Yeah! But that's not the bet, it's if he's a robot or not." Another girl looked at the Drifter and then traded glances with the taller boy

"Fuckin' kids…" The Drifter hoisted himself out of the grainy sand and waved them off, "I got more important shit to look after." The Drifter mumbled with a tired stupor

Finally seeing the daytime of this city was a harsh contrast with it's nightlife. People were everywhere! He couldn't believe all these people settled in one area, people walking back and forth between the market stalls. It was like some paradise! Sadly people still looked at him like he was some sideshow attraction. At least it was a way to get attention but that was not his real goal. To him, these people were specimens, still he was going to abide by ethics, no cutting people's hearts out and then carelessly parading it around, that was the golden rule.

Perusing along the street was nice, no one trying to kill you but those animal people were still around talking about whatever about their lives. That's when brilliance struck him like a mini-nuke!

It was so simple! Just go to a bar! Everyone talks about shit and bartenders were godly at telling information!

There was the issue of money, it never hurt to have some money so the only choice he had for a quick buck was going to be a filthy pickpocket… Oh well.

The Drifter spotted a very easy target. A wimpy looking dude dressed pretty proper, he should have a buck on him or two.

Shrugging, he casually strolled his way to his target and simply just plucked his wallet out. Simple as that!

Plucking the money out of the wallet revealed that it was _very_ stiff money. It's basically just cards. But lucky for him, the guy had a lot of money, hopefully. He doesn't know the inflation rates on this money so he could possibly had next to nothing, it's 12 notes (cards) that say, "25 lien" So hopefully it isn't too small of an amount.

* * *

Wondering around was getting really dull. There were sights to see of course. But he really needed to know more about the internal workings of the world, not landmarks.

Finally stumbling upon what was presumably a bar or at least what could be a bar, the sign had two bears high-fiving with their spare hand carrying a mug overflowing with presumed beer.

"This better be a bar." The Drifter muttered before pushing the doors open.

As luck had it. It was a bar with what looked like a congregation of people in masks, they were all brown haired or blonde, the stray black-haired animal person, but no one of interest, until his eyes spied on two people.

A girl wearing gradient stockings with a weird black buttoned vest, luscious black wavy hair and a poofy black bow covered the top of her hair. What really set her apart from the rest was her amber eyes, she had a sly posterior. Overall she was hot. Sadly, a guy with bull horns, an ornate mask, and some red slick back hair or some shit, he didn't care about that fucker though. Even if the hottie was talking with him.

The bartender had to double take at the Drifter, he was an imposing sight for sure. The glowing red eyes of his helmet didn't help with the mood, even some of the masked members looked disturbed by his presence, but their little party didn't stop either way.

Taking a seat at a stool far away from the commotion, he waved to the bartender who nodded and made his way over.

"I've seen many faces walk into here, sometimes they may wear a mask, but I see you and frankly, you take the cake. What can I get you?" The strange bartender with bear ears and an extremely deep friendly voice asked.

Reclining back on the stool the Drifter gazed at the massive selection of alcohol available, it was an overwhelming amount but most of the bottles had a glaze of dust gripping to them. Most likely they were all decoration.

"You got something that'd break my liver?" Glancing back down at his Pip-Boy and a few twists of knobs, the twenty-five lien card materializes on the table, "Keep the change by the way."

The bartender gives a small nod before pulling out three bottles, one of hot sauce (hopefully), a bottle of vodka, and finally some strange brown bottle with the label peeled off.

"Soo… Is that the secret sauce?" The Drifter asks reluctantly as he points at the brown bottle

"Uh-huh, now just you wait. This'll kill your liver good…" A toothy grin spreads across the man's face, "Yup.. Kill ya real good…" He mumbles like a mad scientist

Running his hand over his helmet like hair the Drifter looks to his right to see the masked red head just staring at him, "You want something bro?"

"Yeah…" The Redhead spat while slowly getting up from his seat, "I think you have some explaining to do."

 _Uhh shit_ , _shit, shit, shit,_ The Drifter was _not_ happy that his first impression has gone to shit.

"So you're trying to find him too?" The Drifter sighed and went back staring at the concoction that was supposed to be his drink _'The fuck is this drink_ ' The "drink" was thick like salsa, or ketchup and had the smell of ammonia.

"Adam, calm down! We don't even know if it's hi-" The black haired girl was cut off by her accomplice

"Shut it Blake, this guy fits the definition of the person he shot the guard last night. Don't you realize it? Trench Coat? Gas mask? He needs to be _punished!_ " Adam unsheathes his blade

In false bravado and with a pointing finger, the Drifter drawled, "First; It's called a 'Duster'. Not only that, he was wearing a Stahlhelm and he was wearing a Wehrmacht gas mask." Gesturing himself the Drifter continued, "I for one, am wearing an American riot helmet and gas mask."

Adam wasn't amused, "Stop bullshitting, I don't know what an 'American' or what a 'Wehrmacht' Just accept death like a good boy."

Giving an exaggerated sigh, the Drifter lazily glanced over at his drink and looked back at his opponent. Lying won't work today he presumes. _'Fuck my life_ '

This was going to be a long day...

* * *

 **AN:**

 **Ah! Thank you for the reviews! Honestly. I'm surprised anyone liked this story considering that it's filled with errors, and awkward dialog. Nonetheless I am still stuck with being between different writing styles that sometimes change. Also, any Guest replies will be replied here.**

 **Guest: I know dude! I've watched every single episode of the Storyteller thus far! I even have the Old World Tunes app! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if you have any critiques, please let me know broham.**


	4. Boat Troubles

**Alright guys! I did it! I completely redone chapter 4 to something more enjoyable, some action there too. But as I was saying, this chapter before hand sucked ass. It was short, shoddy. I redid it. That's all that matters, this chapter was a fucking doozy to write**

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Reclining back onto the hard wooden table of the bar, the Drifter cocks his head, "Look, I know we have a problem here, but really I want nothin' of it," Unscrewing a cap on his mask he grabs the disgusting cocktail and downs it in one gulp, the gelatinous compound splashed down into his throat as he let out a satisfying 'Ahh' before continuing, "I find you might be a good person too - jump in for justice, all that pizzazz. But from what I see is that you're gonna need to take off that mask and see unobscured for yourself that I'm not trying to start anything."

A pregnant pause as air became stagnant, The red-haired man looked at the Drifter with a smug look plastered on his face. His little black-haired accomplice is there with her hands clutched on her holstered sword as she narrowed her yellow eyes

"Tell me this," Lowering his red sword, the horned man, "I'll give you a merciful death if you tell me why you did this." With a small chuckle he raised it again. Surely this strange guy killed his own Faunus brethren. The descriptions more or less matched this guy! Albeit - the reports were varied but this is the only guy with a gasmask and some coat.

 _Every dumbass follows that same line - huh?_ "Fuck it. I'm done lying, I shot him. He called me 'Human scum' and then shoved a gun in my face," The air even got denser than what it already was, it was almost as if all the air was too heavy to breathe for everyone as the Drifter finally made his confession, "So tell me this before I supposedly am given a 'merciful death'." The Drifter added with air quotes.

With a small nod, the red-haired man grew an even brighter smile, "Go ahead." He nearly cackled in what was thought to be victory.

"First your name is…"

"Adam" The Bull added.

Saying the name a few times as if tasting some fine dish the Drifter seemed content, "Why am I human scum? So far I lived an isolated life away from almost all people" He lied between his teeth, it was sad how easy it was to let a convincing lie slip from between his lips.

"Playing the stupid card? Adam's voice sharpened as he nearly spat towards the Drifter

"Nah, not really just wondering how he considered me scum. So far it seems pretty scummy for someone to just assume who I am and then shove a gun in my face." The Drifter yawned in boredom.

His smirk dying from the Drifter's unamused expression, or lack thereof due to the helmet and mask, Adam spat in his Direction.

"Damnit! Look what you did," The Drifter pointed at the disgusting splurge of spit _It even has some green in it too! What the fuck man!_ "Fucker here is gonna have to clean it up!"

Adam nearly, _nearly_ rolled his eyes under his mask, but he pressured on as he raised his blade, "I'm done with the questions. I answered enough, ar-" He was interrupted

WIth a quick draw of the Compliance Regulator, the Drifter rapidly added, "Also, I don't need to deal with this shit."

With one trigger pull, a blue laser instantly struck the yellow-eyed girl. Eyes widened, muscles contracted, it felt like she was in one giant cramp as her body resisted any move she made as she almost fell to the ground as the Drifter, completely ignoring Adam's dumbfounded look hauled ass and awkwardly carried her away pushed his way through the west of the group out into the street.

The street was crowded like always, People bustling as several carts were dragged by bedraggled horses. The issue first of all was to actually escape, easier said-than-done when you had a 160 pound girl to carry. Not easy and he could feel the tension in her muscles laxing up. Fuck.

Running into the middle of the street, his luck has struck when he saw an ominous alleyway. No one would notice _obviously_. Barging through the alley and travelling deep into its confines led to some kind of shortcut to what looks like a ghetto. Rushing by when he saw the widened eyes of the already beleaguered looks of poverty locked on him, he sped until he saw a strange outcropping of tropics at the end of the tiny street before literally diving with the girl in tow into the forest before finding a small grassy clearing to set her down in.

She was already completely able to move, after propping her up against a tree, she completely refused to even look at him. Rubbing his hand over his helmet absolutely sick and tired of today. But letting his feelings get ahead would be a problem considering he now has to deal with a girl that he _kidnapped_ and now tucked her knees in as she hid her face with them.

 _What do I do now?_ He's captured enemies before, tortured them, and got information. But this is a completely different world. He just captured her for the fact that she even _remotely_ looked important. Oh boy, what a mistake he's in.

Minutes passed on by when she regularly threw glances at him as if she was expecting him to do something.

"Uhh… You don't need to be so pissed, I didn't really know what to do either. I just snatched ya because I… I really don't know. You'll be useful later to me. But in the meanwhile." He not even caring materialize handcuffs, "I got us friendship bracelets. Well, more like you a friendship bracelet." he shrugged as he snapped her wrist to a nearby thin palm tree He then sat straight across from her cross one knee crossed as the other stood so he can prop his hand on his knee, and he just stared at her. The glowing red eyes of a predator emanating from his visor as she continually more uncomfortable.

She was stuck, she knew it. She had Gambol Shroud to pull out, but the man just wouldn't stop staring. Everytime she looked away he would lean in that direction to look at her with those piercing eyes. A minute felt like an hour as he just stared at the Faunus, and an hour felt like a year.

"So… Know anything cool about yourself." The armor-clad man said, trying to break the ice. He twiddled his thumbs in response to her silence as he waited for an answer.

She couldn't take this quiet game any further and blurted, "I'm the village chief's daughter," her eyes widened at the realization she said sensitive information. Who knows what this man could do next. To her, he acted very informally and sounded slightly incompetent at times, when he drawled his words as if not knowing what to say. But in all honestly, her mind rang with the sense of danger, a ploy, set to ruin her, her family, everyone she loved, "A-and my name is Blake…" She added quietly she paused waiting for her incoming doom. Was this a form of torture? Unending staring?

Pausing and letting it linger after she said her name he straightened his back stuck his hand out to the bound girl Blake, "Nice to meetcha Blake. Sorry about this whole ordeal. To be quite honest, I wasn't expecting more of y'all o'er there! I was just on my little Ol' pilgrimage, learn stuff, go back and take that science and do stuff with that stuff. The usual."

Her mouth dropped, almost slamming into the ground with what she heard, he spoke normally the first few sentences, and as he continued it got thicker, and thicker. _Where is this guy from? Surely isn't Atlas. Mistral? Maybe._ Her thoughts were interrupted when he spoke again,

"Oh and by the way. Lemme explain myself; I was out in that desert, and killed what looked like a huge Armadillo, after blasting it's brains out I saw a light in the distance. I kept following it until I found this building where people were comin' in and out with masks and stuff. So with my due diligence I was gonna come out from yonder and say hello. Well, turns out they think I'm scum." The Drifter paused for a second looked slowly behind him and continued, " Then he pointed a gun at me when I said I came from the desert, something it being about 'Inhospitable' and then he was gonna shoot me, since I had the quicker draw, I blasted his brains out, ran away, went to sleep on the beach and then went to the bar where I saw you."

Blake had no idea what to think - beside from the fact that she wants to be anywhere but here - but here she is, hearing out on a man who not only shot one of her brethren, but also kidnapped her. Now he probably wants her forgiveness? This man was crazy.

"Also, anyway off this island?" He asked as he stood up looking around as she meekly pointed in a general direction.

"Sweet, lemme get them bindings off ya." He grabbed her wrist and just digitized the handcuffs, her eyes widened in confusion as he just casually walked off, but not without saying, "Sorry for the trouble!"

Blake eyes narrowed in the general direction the Drifter was going as she rubbed her sore wrist. Handcuffs were tighter than she thought.

* * *

Holy shit that was awkward! Not counting that she basically said nothing for three hours, except her name and her father's occupation. But hey, he was getting somewhere right? Anywhere but this place and it would be perfect. Now he just needs to get away. Hopefully he wouldn't need to see her anytime soon. It would lead to _another_ awkward conversation. As in, her being silent for nearly three hours. It was pain. Really - a random group coming after him and then him kidnapping a girl who is the daughter of the village chief no less.

Walking through the humid tropics weren't something to scoff at - it was hot as in really hot - still that that didn't mean he couldn't march forward. No matter how many times the humidity caused his underwear to ride up his ass. _Fucking piece of… Never mind, better than going commando at least._

The forest eventually died away to reveal men in familiar white masks as they scurry about on a side street in what seems to be them trying to find something. That "something" no doubt being Blake and most likely him as well. _My God why does everything need to be this difficult._ That was when a familiar voice called out, plenty of rage within it

"Find that motherfucker! Find me Blake!" Adam, teeth gritted and eyes most possibly, definitely, flared as he threw his head left and right as if expecting it would help him find anything _Looks more like he's in some fucking nightclub_. The man would never be able to catch wind of the Drifter with where he was at. He'd crush the fuck for sure, but killing wasn't something he wanted to start really. Not a great first impression. That's like started a fight with the host's wife when you visit your friend's house.

Minutes passed by, his chances of being able to cross getting lar-

"Boss! What's that red glowing light over there!" A random grunt called

 _Oops, forgot to turn it off… Heh._

With a quick rise and a quick flick through his Pip-Boy he gave no time to waste, fighting was a must, and he wasn't gonna waste this opportunity to run. He through his objective out the window as he watched them ready their rifles and Adam let out a blood-curdling roar as he raised his sword.

The Drifter graced himself with the harbinger of death, discovered in a pool of blood where Deathclaws roamed and nested he had his deadly weapon in hand, and he was ready to let it loose.

 _Vengeance_

Men stood ready, blades and swords ready, slightly confused by how he suddenly materialized a weapon, but those thoughts were cast aside as, civilians were scattered in a stampede to remove themselves from the confrontation as the Drifter had his visor glow even brighter with its Predator Red. As the men began the charge - the ghostly howl of the laser screeched in rage as it leapt from man to man, sending them to oblivion…

 _I didn't want this, they made me…_ The thought sounded in his head as a faint ambient glow from the beam flushed onto him. Adam was in cover as anyone who dared to make an appearance was turned to ashes, or violently exploded into a bloody mess due to the heat causing their cells to literally rip apart as it was super-heated beyond their boiling point. They weren't even close of an iota of what more destruction he could achieve, but no one in this world except the truly vile deserved the fate of what he could truly cause.

"Hurry! Up! We need someone to distract him!" One White-Fang member called as he rose before promptly exploding into a pile of gore, another man lost, another family to contact. That was what Adam thought, though some would think he let his standards fall - they would be wrong as he corrected them and then executed them for treachery. The problem remains that the dangerous man before them was firing, and any stop to reload left them no time to counterattack, or any flanking maneuver as they would still enter his peripheral vision. He was truly a force of nature. Though there had to be someone to get him… _Unless…_

That was it. It had to be, _Moonslice_. He was going to need to take damage, he could try to block the beam with his sword, and then close in for a strike to officially end him. It was worth a shot.

The Drifter continually kept firing never letting up, until _he_ rose. Adam, the man raised his blade as if to block a blow _What an idiot_ the Drifter thought as he switched targets - instantly striking Adam's shoulder as the photons moved the speed of light, he went down.

"Damn it, Damn it, Damn it!" Adam jaw clamped shut in anger was almost in threat of crushing his own teeth as sweat poured down, the humid environment though finally gave the chance that Adam needed to strike. Vengeance's crystal was blocked with fog as the beams became thinner and less concentrated until eventually becoming harmless rays of light.

Suddenly jumping from cover - his blade ready, eyes locked onto the Drifter - Adam charged with everything he mustered. His anger taking over as he imagined what the Drifter could've done to Blake, the fear of seeing her dead body hanging from a tree almost scared him, he didn't want to know what awaits farther in the forest, lest he see Blake in a… Less complete position.

The Drifter took note of this desperate charge, Adam was fast but little did he know he was more than ready for this moment.

"RAGHH!" A cry beyond all others sprang forth as he saw the Drifter readied himself, left hand out, and right hand carrying a slick metallic pole with crystals on the back, they sprang to life to reveal a purple blade of energy with electricity coursing through like veins.

Adam bypassed the hand as he charged into the Drifter and a mighty swing of his blade leaving the unearthly, angry screech of metal as sparks flew off his chest plate rebounding the crimson blade off it. Twisting his blade around till the hilt laid in his hands like a javelin, he rammed it through the palm of his hand as blood oozed and the sounds of metal rubbing against each other sounded as it snaked its way to his opponent's head skittering off the round of his helmet.

The Drifter in turn yanked his left hand down, more blood leaked as he slid his hand farther up the grip of his axe and gave a purposefully slow swing to make Adam duck, only for him to aid himself in meeting the Drifter's knee. In Adam's stunned surprise, the Drifter yanked his hand again - this resulted in Adam losing his main weapon stuck literally in the Drifter's hands.

"Think again, piece of shit!" The Drifter hissed. Dropping his axe, he delivers a haymaker of unproportioned strength almost sending Adam flying. In the meantime the Drifter quickly decoupled the blade from his profusely bleeding hand and clambered for his axe before in an attempt to run off, looked behind him one last time, to see Blake.

Her eyes widened, the horror she saw before her, her own kind's body parts scattered across the ground. Legs, arms, parts of torsos, some blown into halves, some just pile of organs - finally Adam lay, somehow relatively uninjured climbing back up in a fit of rage. Though what truly scared her was the man who half-turned to look to her - in her eyes - she truly saw what this man could do as she then looked into his visor, glowing red, a brighter red than the blood of her comrades that was spilt, but under that light, beyond the protective visor laid a pair of eyes. Eyes of a man who looked like he could take on the world single-handedly, as if he could handle the entire Atlas Armata in some kind of one-sided war. She was afraid… So she ran…

 _Like she always does._

Adam was ready for round two, but for the Drifter - play time was over - he had to leave _now_. Ignoring the bloody hand that occupies him, the Drifter rushed off into the city to find an escape, somewhere safe, somewhere but here. Thanks to Blake, he knew generally where to go.

* * *

The city as it was filled with a cacophony of people screaming in fear as they still reeled back from the fight between that strange group. The people screaming didn't help his situation either as more of those masked fucks are now more than wanting to kill him _Where the fuck do I go!?_ His frustration almost gripping him as more people piled trying to get away from the bloodbath, children screaming, mothers wailing, he almost swore he saw a woman cradle one of the corpses in her arms _Her loss._ The dark thought woke in his mind as he pushed more and more people out of the way on his way to get to the beach, there should be a boat port or _anything_ to get him out of this God forsaken island. He was tired of it, he hated it, he _despised_ it.

As luck had it, after ten minutes of pushing, he finally made his way to what looked like a line for tickets, he didn't have time for this. He grabbed his Stealth-Boy and with a push of a button, the device turned him nearly invisible, he took the small allotted time he had for the effectiveness of the device and ran as fast as he could to the closest boat, one with its drawbridge already closing. Faster, faster, faster. He ran until he lept as the door rose even more before catching the ledge - ignoring the pain of his left hand - as he literally threw himself into the boat before dragging himself towards a random door and opened it. What he saw inside was nothing more than an unused supply closet. But to him, this was safety. He was _safe!_ Yes! Finally! Taking two steps inside, he sat in the corner closest to the door. Coiling his knees up to his chin, he leaned back and took a well deserved rest. He didn't know where he was going, but it was going to be better when he got there. He could do his research and then… Then what? Return? Live there? Didn't matter. Simple goals… That's all that mattered…

Closing his eyes, he let his eyes drift him to a deep sleep.

* * *

 **Okay, I fixed it. Thank God! OOC Blake may still be a bit OOC but meh, blame it on the Drifter, he's a fucking psychopath compared to those on Remnant, all the White-Fang did was add to his already large kill count. Those he even bothered to check on chapter 4 again, then please let me know what you thought.**


	5. In the Swing of Things

**Okay Guys, I saw my last chapter was pretty much shit, so I tried to fix my disgusting mistake of a last-chapter with this chapter. Now I am literally embarrassed to have last chapter still up, so there will be a delay in the next chapter (Shouldn't be long as I am using the last chapter, cutting it down and using it as a base and then expanding it by a shit ton) as I fix last chapter, it's going to hopefully be as long as this chapter, premise is gonna be slightly the same except Blake will not be so OOC.**

 **Wizzrobe: You almost got how he feels right now is currently correct. Though, he does this since he now has new feeling of wonderment. Wait further up until the story.**

 **Now I got that outta the way I have something to ask. I am thinking of a way to progress the story. There might be um... Well there might be um... An OC team. But trust me, they will be minor. But I don't know if you'll agree with that. I usually set a gameplan down and then use google docs as I read over and highlight sentences, paragraphs or maybe just words and use the add comment tool so I can edit it later. Problem is that when I follow it, I veer off from it. Not only that I also have trouble with dialog and actually have my character do anything. Last chapter my character literally just got on a boat. This chapter I hope he did something more for you all. Also, how the _fuck_ do I properly add Em-dashes. It pisses me off that it comes off as just hyphens**

* * *

"Mrbl…" The Drifter grumbled groggily into the soft paradise that was the Inn pillow. His first day at the island of Patch was thankfully tame with nothing trying to kill him. Instead he was greeted with people of warm smiles and families aplenty. The Inn was even staffed by a rather loving woman insisted on being called 'Mom' rather than her real name - which he forgot to ask for - oh well.

Leaning up from the pillow was the first task was already difficult enough as it was! He spent so much time exploring the port town he was currently in that he was dead tired. That didn't mean he could slack off either, he needed to get some research done. The simplest research would most likely be the wildlife here and the animals seemed similar to what was back home on pre-war Earth so nothing should be too much different except those weird black and white animals. Main stickler would be that he would have to travel back to Menagerie to study its innerworkings too.

 _Ehh, maybe not the best idea._ The thought resounded in his head as he drew a map that he bought from the general store next-door, and with a marker that was already running out of ink, he drew his path, the first would be head straight to Vale, then head north to Atlas, then go through go through Vacuo and then to Mistral. Basically one giant spiral, simple and easy.

Now his true purpose here has come to fruition, he has money (not a lot), he has some experience with the people, and now he can start the pilgrimage from a more stable position in Patch instead of Menagerie.

Slipping his random, broken 10mm pistol into the magical domain of his duster's inner pocket. He just felt safer with a gun nearby. (Even if it was broken)

Walking down the Oaken steps of the Inn led to the main area, a bar to the left with Mom standing there with a smile as some patrons sitting at round tables enjoy a breakfast that she whipped up. The smell of Bacon and Eggs were truly tantalizing and sometimes good food was like sex, well as close as he could ever get to sex - Lily stopped him every time he was going to score. With a wave to Mom, and her waving back, he marched his way out of the homely Inn.

The sight of the town and the sudden light of the Sun engulfed his eyes. Compared to the broken moon he always saw - he preferred the day. The town was filled to the brim with fishermen who always greet you with a soft smile and a nod as mothers try to keep their children in order as they scurry about and play with each other. Then there's the usual couple who'll walk hand-in-hand and explore various shops.

This was a _beautiful_ town!

The map shown that patch had a rather large forest and most towns covered the shore with a few independent houses usually owned by huntsmen being in the woods - away from danger but close enough to respond to Grimm attacks according to the book, _The fuck is "Grimm?"_ Now since the Drifter only knew from the map what was in Patch he planned to purposely go through the "Danger Zones" that are marked in red lines so he can research the so called "Grimm".

Following the map he found the entrance to the forest and the first two minutes of walking in it, he took an immediate left completely leaving the trail.

Nothing was going to go wrong, he was good at this kinda stuff - hopefully - maybe.

The forest was a great luscious green with the ever present bird blitzing from tree to tree, The Drifter never understood why birds did that, it's just the way birds do he guessed.

tip-toeing from tree to tree in the midst of this vibrant forest gave him a feeling like those survivalists from the books he read. His mind wasn't thinking, "Finding a creature for research." No, the Drifter's mind was somewhere else.

 _He was trying to find prey._

As much as those childish thoughts plopped themselves in his brain, he still couldn't reminisce about home with what he was doing. Little things like his military operation he's running after taking over New Vegas, the Think-Tank, Rex, the Think-Tank, and most of all Mobius - Poor Mobius has to deal with those psychopaths.

A deep nasty snarl was heard within the distance and out of instinct, the Drifter hit the deck out of caution, ready to observe the creature.

Completely prone in the soft grass the Drifter slowly skulked his way from bush to bush, anything to conceal an outline of him, and most importantly, he turned off the lights on his mask.

The creature was scratching the bark off in what almost looked like a display of irritation, it's maw showed it's incredibly white teeth _Pretty good teeth for what looks like a black Polar Bear._ The sarcastic thought popped into mind. One finger rising to the side of his helmet to turn on that camera Dala gave him.

So far he's captured just a few seconds of the creature or so called "Grimm" - Yeah, it's easier to just call it Grimm - the large Grimm was still mulling about, the footage wouldn't do though, he had to get some fur samples, a skin sample, and bone sample. One from the spikes, from that skull, bone from the internal skeleton, and one of the eyes. From what the Drifter could tell, the skull looked thick with red markings, a weird evolutionary trait but okay, the eyes were completely red which didn't make sense, that would mean the blood vessels were thick or very clumped up together and on the surface of the eyes or the most outlandish idea would be that the eye is not made up of layers like human scleras, instead it's like one giant water balloon - but filled with blood - Still there was no explanation. Unless…

It's a simple intimidation factor. _Except most animals only have to puff themselves up and screech to scare things._ This kind of intimidation would mean that either the animal could only hunt the most dangerous of prey, and what do humans consider evil? Black, and red. The thought was slightly unnerving - Humans are no longer at the top of the food chain. These Grimm now take that spot - Not exactly a comforting thought that an animal either predominantly attacks humans for a food source. If he had any evidence to go by, the armor plating for some reason is completely negated when he fought one of those creatures in the desert. But wasn't it more like an Armadillo there? Those thoughts mattered only little when he heard a girl cry out.

* * *

"Zwei! Where are you boy!" Ruby Rose called for her beloved Corgi, "I got you those cookie-flavored dog treats I told you about!" She cupped her hands over her mouth again, and after a few seconds she was met with silence

"Darn! I thought that would've got him too" She pouted as she kicked a random rock. Zwei was catching on too fast about not believing her on the whole dog cookie-treats - they don't exist obviously - Since when did dogs eat cookies right?

 _Right?_

* * *

"Shoo! _Shooo!_ " The Drifter kept kicking his leg as the small Corgi gnawed at his pants leg, "My legs are not. A. Fucking. Chew. _Toy!_ " He whispered with fervor and almost a hiss.

The dog _still_ didn't stop. It kept gnawing at his pants leg and with one final kick (More like a football punt) the small dog finally let go and with it's adorable eyes, it made a cute bark.

No good, the Drifter slowly turned around hoping the Grimm wasn't looking his direction. Eyes closed he opened them. He was greeted face-to-face with a large set of teeth and the hot breath streaming past his helmet.

"W-why hello there!" The Drifter started as the Grimm looked at him curiously, " I was in the neighborhood asking if you would like to become a Jehovah's Witnes-" His words were cut off as a heavily telegraphed swing of a large paw came onto a collision course with the side of his head.

Ducking, the Drifter pulled out Sleepytyme and unleashed a hail of 10mm bullets into the belly of the fowl animal. Death was promptly achieved when the back to legs of the creature for some reason exploded _Eh. I learned to stop questioning how things died a long time ago_

Making quick work, he pulled out the Mauler Auto Axe and promptly sheared off and entire leg, and storing it into his Pip-Boy, the entry said " Leg?" before he promptly materialized out a screwdriver and a regular hammer, he used the ripper he had available and sawed off most of the bone off the face and promptly stored it leaving a gruesome display of a mutilated face. Now the main skull was thick, but his choices were limited on how to extract an eyeball quickly due to the body quickly decomposing somehow. So the most common method for him would be to quickly hammer the screwdriver and break off bone, relieving pressure that keeps the eye in, then the complete removal of the eye severing the optic nerve.

Slamming the hammer into the screwdriver was the easy part - hardest part was actually not damaging the eye from the bone straight up shattering - that was until he heard a rather shrill voice behind him.

"Oh Zwei! There you ar- OH MY GOD!" The Drifter paused to turn around to see a girl with red highlights looking absolutely terrified, "Wha- Why!?" She stuttered in a panicky shock.

"Cuz lil' lady," The Drifter chuckled, "Science. That's why. Now go back home now, the last thing I need is more of these things" That was kind of a lie. He could gather as much samples as he wanted. But he'd rethink his decision of trying to excise the eyes and just decapitate the Grimm from now on.

"Hey! I'm not little! I drink milk!" The small girl crossed her arms pouting and then looked back with a grimace as he tore apart the Ursa skull., "Anyway, why do you want that Ursa eyeball anyway?" she asked genuinely disgusted as he turned back to his eye pounding.

A few smashes of bone later as the eye becomes visibly more slack he opens up "I'm doing this for my friendly neighborhood scientists back home," A few smashes later and a grumble he continues, "They can easily tell what this eye can do, what it's filled with, what capabilities they have. If they wanted to they could even tell me what proteins are inside the thing."

"Oh… I see"

A few seconds pause as he covertly digitised the eyeball

"By the way, what's your name anyway lil' girl?"

Her eyes narrowed as she puffed up rather adorably, "I'm not little!" She went reverted from her air inflated size and continued in the same energetic fashion "I'm Ruby Rose! Nice to Meetcha!" She over extends her hand in some awkward fashion _She never really sees people much, does she?_

The Drifter wouldn't be wrong.

The Drifter was dumbstruck, she looked like a fairy tale, that still didn't stop the Drifter from being polite and shaking her hand. As his dad once said, "Don't be a dick."

"Ju-just… Lemme take you home." He sighed, as he looked at her again as she had a slight flush

"O-okay," She nodded looking flustered, "I never had another boy take me home before. Yang is gonna be so proud of me!"

"Sorry about that Ruby," The Drifter looked towards her direction, "We ain't datin' and I don't want to feel guilty knowin' a lil' girl like you got ripped to shreds by these Grimm."

She giggled slightly at that, "You think I can't protect myself? Uncle Qrow taught me! Look!" She quickly draws a small red box and suddenly a loud cacophony of sounds as metal scraped against each other as the mysterious object began to unfold revealing a _very_ large scythe as the Drifter essentially just slumped completely dumbfounded.

"It's also a high-caliber sniper rifle too." she added with a smirk.

"I-I-I Just… Nevermind." He sighed _I gotta really stop questioning things here_.

A girl frilled in a red and black miniskirt and a red hood and a man clad in dusty armor and a gasmask just casually talking to each other, a stranger sight could not have been found in this forest

"Yeah my Uncle Qrow is pretty awesome" Ruby chattered on about her uncle as she held her precious dog in her arms as they walked down the forest trail as she led him to her home.

"Yeah, I had an uncle you could say once. His name was Rodham, but I called him Roddy. He had all these awesome guns and stuff. But you know, he can't compare now to the shear amount guns I have with me right now."

Her eyes widened like saucers, her mouth agape like door was left open and she even stopped _Woops! Ruby has crashed please wait until reboot. Boop._ Seconds later, the biggest word splurge to ever smash into mankind just flowed out of the flood gates, " _Ohmygosh, ohmygosh! Showmeshowmeshowmeshowme! Doesitshootfiredustorallkindsofdustpersonallyfireismyfavoritebutdon'ttellYang. Ihaveahigh-caliberscythesniper,whatdoyouhave!?"_

This girl was crazy about her weapons - Boy did he _love it_ \- She was crazy, but good crazy about weapons.

With a small sigh and just assumed that she basically said "Show all the awesome guns now!" he graced her eyes and ears with his weapons. A P94 Plasma rifle was sprung into reality, it's very obviously used, but the giant claw on the end insisted a very sinister purpose with the brass colored piping along the side with a carry handle sight.

Ruby almost dropped Zwei. Knees unsteady, she feebly placed him down as she literally was becoming unhinged the word 'precious' could be heard in her ramblings.

"So." The Drifter added with a click of his tongue, "I bet you wanna know this baby can do?" Gripping the plasma rifle tightly, he noticed Ruby in an outright trance. She's in a complete loss of words, only able to make some sounds _Wait. Does she have her tongue hanging out?_

"Alrighty then," Shouldering his plasma rifle, he points it at the closest tree and fires. A deep green discharges from the spike as it sails across the air splattering on the tree. The tree subsequently bursts into flames "How about them apples?"

"I.. I…" Ruby just sputters as she visibly begins to shake constantly. It was as if she just some higher state of euphoria.

"Ruby, come on. Lemme take you home" The Drifter motions for her to come.

"But I wanna try it!" Ruby pouts _again_ and it's already getting dark - she needs to go home - but maybe just a little longer just to have some innocent fun.

The day continued until night where Ruby experienced the guns of the wasteland; lasers, plasma, and rockets. Ruby loved them all. She was knowledgeable on guns too! Even if it some of the terminology was weird, _what's "Dust"_ Surely that magical substance is more than just the common piles of dust you find laying about in the wasteland. That was until he felt her poke the side of his helmet.

"Hey. This is my house," Ruby pointed with a wide smile at the cozy home as the light in the windows contrasted with the dark sky, "Dad is probably scared to death about me. But he shouldn't worry. I'm a grown girl!" She says as she pounds her fist into her chest.

"Okie dokie Ruberonie" Both Ruby and the Drifter chuckle at the nickname, "Goodbye!" The Drifter waves to the small frame as she opens up the door, he can hear the faint yell of a man as he scolds her as he walks away from the house and back to the forest. A day spent with someone as sweet as her did make time fly by as they had fun - Too bad that he wasn't going to see her again - goodbye did seem like the proper thing to say after all. His new goal now, find a campsite…

* * *

The door creaked open as Ruby was tired, but still thoroughly excited with her new friend - even Zwei liked him! Still, the air felt incredibly thick, but why? Usually Yang was here to greet her. _What's going on here?_ Ruby got visibly confused scratching her head, it was very dark out though, so it must be very late. Pulling out her scroll as it expanded into its normal shape she checked the time and- Oh God! It was nearly twelve A.M.! Unfortunately Zwei's tail dipped between his legs when a very audible footstep was heard

"Ruby! Where were you," Tai-Yang, Ruby's father taps his foot with a cocked head and a piercing glare, "Yang was out searching for you! We were about to go get Qrow too!" His eyes narrowed as poor Ruby looked down, she always had trouble looking her father in the eyes when he was angry, it was obvious too. He didn't want the same thing that happened to Summer happen to her.

"D-dad… I was out with a friend," She looked up to meet Tai's eyes with hurt. It was her fault she took too long to get home… _If only,_ "He said he would take me home, we talked when we went to the forest, I was trying to find Zwei, I found him cutting up pieces of an Ursa, he said it was for 'Research'." Tai paused for a minute taking in the information.

Shaking his head, he sighed, "Just get to bed Ruby, I'm happy you're back home. I was absolutely afraid. C'mere…" Ruby walked forward as he grabbed both her shoulders and gave her a kiss on the cheek, "Now get to bed little squirt!" Tai laughed as he ruffled Ruby's hair.

"Night dad." Ruby smiled as she marched up the stairs to her room

That was when she just noticed, her hood felt weighed down, What? How? What's in it? Reaching back into it, a large metallic and green object fell out, as well as what looks like several small cells.

 _Did he… Give these to me?_

She laid out what she had on her bed. A large pistol that had a green, tinge on some parts it's side said "Glock 86 'Plasma Defender'" and some weird cells that served as ammunition most likely.

"Holy…" Ruby stammered. This was a gift right? Sure this was a gift. Friends give each other gifts right? Was it a proposal and she never noticed?! Oh no! Wait… They don't even know each other's name. Surely this was a gift:

 _Right?_

Right… It was a gift… From a friend. Friends care for one another and they will always be by our sides. Ruby's face brightened to a Strawberry red. _I can't let Yang know a boy gave me a gift, she'll never let me live it down._

With just her luck, Yang burst through the door behind her. Eyes fire red and her blonde hair almost positively growing, her bosom rising and falling from deep breaths she gritted her teeth as she spoke, "Sis… Where. Were. You." the sound of pure anger and worry as she stiffened her shoulder when she dragged herself towards her cowering sister

Ruby's eye widened, "Uh… With a friend?"

Tonight won't be normal will it? Actually - her days are never normal.

* * *

 **Thus the chapter is done! Please let me know how I did Ruby! I have so much fucking trouble trying to write other characters that sometimes conversations just come off... Forced. Like they hate their lives and really don't want to talk. Unless I'm just being the most critical of myself.**


	6. Train Troubles

**Okay first of all. I'm so fucking sorry for taking this long. I have to share this computer with a family member who requires it 24/7 for college. But I finally got it out in time. It's significantly shorter, but I hope that isn't an issue.**

* * *

A train chugged along through Forever Fall forest and sat within the metal cocoon was the Drifter, pissed as all can be - namely due to the fact that the the boats to the city of Vale were all closed, so he had to take boat that docked outside of the City of Vale. He could take silent enjoyment of being able to learn about what's outside the city so he can compare and contrast on what was inside. Too bad he couldn't think as much as he wanted due to a certain fuck in the way.

There was another snore, and then another. The Drifter was leaning towards the window as some horribly obese man snored and was leaning on his side, that wasn't counting the fucker was literally taking up almost half his fucking seat. Of the satin carpet and a metallic interior that looked kinda bland, this fucker made his time unbearable from him bothering to _him_ about taking too much space, and him generally trying to touch his shit

 _Can I see that?_

 _That thing looks cool, lemme see it!_

 _Woah! Cool! I want one! Can I see it?_

The Drifter would've shot the cunt if this was Earth, too bad that people would get uppity over his death.

The train's soft clacking against the tracks did offer a slight lullaby over the orange scenery. It was a relatively nice ride, discounting the fuck. But sadly, the Drifter was tired of dealing with the guy's osmosis sweat somehow getting stuck on his armor, so with some heaves, he pushed himself out of the fatty Hell and began to make his way farther back into the other cars. He really didn't know what was in the other ones so why not just keep going back till you hit a locked door? Pushing through, he was in a breakfast car, then he went back to find third-class (mostly Faunus inside), then it was all third class, most looked at him weird, but he found what looked like a cargo containment. Just beyond the door, the distinct sounds of fighting and explosions were evident, even everyone looked tense inside this cart as they kept eyeing the door and back to him as they expected him to fix the problem.

People were fidgeting in the car, and looking left and right, the Drifter knew that everyone was looking to him for comfort. Looking left and right, he saw kids crowding to their parents, small Faunus and Human children are crying.

With a very audible sigh, the Drifter called to the occupants in an attempt to calm them down, "Alright! You people get the kids to the front of the cart and behind any cover, I know you won't like it, but the adults need to be human shields in case anything penetrates these walls! Understand?" The crowd instantly began forcing kids to the front away from the commotion and as everyone settled, the Drifter nodded in satisfaction and materialized the weapon of legends, the weapon to tear away at Frank Horrigan himself, the bringer of death… Bozar. The Crowd looked even more uncomfortable, probably at the fact that the man who could possibly save them, could horribly die. Problem was that this was the Drifter, he never dies from the petty.

One push, the door was open, the red predator light was brighter than ever as the night-vision buzzed. Gun shots were ringing and throughout the conflict he saw them… Those two…

 _Blake and Adam_ …!

"What about the passengers and crew!"

"What about them…?"

"Yeah Adam, what about them?" The Drifter emerged from the darkness into the cargo and out into an open cargo car, wielding the ungodly Bozar in both his hands and at the ready. Adam turned around, mouth turned into a sharp scowl as he matched eyes with the Drifter who - while concealed - had a shit eating grin underneath his gas mask, "Also, Blakey, you might need to step outta the way here. I'm tryin' to minimize casualties, cuz you know… I hate killin' those who don't deserve it."

Blake's eyes widened at that comment, Adam on the other hand didn't bat an eye and probably barely took note, but within Blake's eyes laid doubt, doubt that she has of herself, doubt of the White Fang, and doubt within Adam… The same man that mentored her, the same man she kissed and loved… The same man that she slept with that one night of passion. She hated his indomitable brutality, his hatred for all those who had differing opinions, his hatred of all humans. She felt as if she was cheated, the man she once loved.. Turned into a _monster_.

"Adam, let's just get rid of the cargo and-" Blake stammered as she tried to continue only to be interrupted

"Blake, we need to make an example of this piece of shit. Show how humans shouldn't interfere with the White Fang!" Adam growled as the Drifter began to get even more lax, all the way to even letting the Bozar hang slack in his left hand as if it was a toy.

The Drifter sighed _again._ Now the mystery was solved too! They were called the White Fang, and presumably this guy is like, top-tier. Or some shit like that and they're terrorists. Huh… _I'm officially now consider myself part of "The Good Guys" now_ The Drifter paused as Adam and Blake were bickering back and forth, meh. Military doctrine always said, "First one to shoot is usually the one who wins." So why not go by the book? Taking aim, no V.A.T.S required, he laid a small three-round burst towards Adam striking him in the back.

"Fuck you!" Adam roared as he stumbled forward as he was interrupted from his beloved. This man would pay…

The Drifter just saw an angry redheaded. What did he really expect? They were usually the hotheads in most situations. Adam was pointing his oh so threatening sword at him like it was supposed to be intimidation, seventy-five percent of the words he toned out were swears, but the Drifter glanced at Blake which she took notice…

She made up her mind, that was why he was never rough, even when he captured her. Could he tell the amount of doubt she had about those around her? Is this man giving her a chance to start anew? No. Someone wouldn't realistically do something like this. But this was the helmeted man, someone she couldn't pin a name too. He captured her and tried to initiate conversation, willingly let her go, and is giving her another chance? She was going to leave Adam soon… But she wasn't sure when… This man was going to give her the chance.

" _I'm sorry Adam…"_

Blake sped by Adam before joining with the Drifter. Adam was dumbfounded _Why Blake?_ The thought rang through his mind. Gritting his teeth, he charged in the direction of Blake and the Drifter in a murderous dash to retrieve Blake only to be met face to face with that same abhorrent man.

" _You_ …" Adam seethed with anger as his words leaked with venom that could melt through steel, " _You_ always caused issues. _You_ always get away. One little strike, and then suddenly you're gone… No more.." Adam whipped his blade from his sheath as he watched that lifeless red visor continue to glow. He hated that red glow, it _taunted_ him.

"Oi! Blake!" The Drifter slung his neck behind him lazily, "Go check on those civilians and tell them I got this shit under control." The Drifter shooed Blake away with one hand as he turned to face his new opponent, "So…" There was a stagnant pause between the two men, one of a man almost breathing hot steam, the other with utter indifference, "I think I borked your plan. You gonna leave now? Make it easier for me?" the Drifter swayed back and forth with his arms swinging together.

"No." Adam voraciously shook his head as if he was a hungry animal, "I'm going to kill you right here. Right now."

The Drifter on the other hand was just smiling under his helmet. He's dealt with these types in the Legion. Act so tough about killing him, and they always get mad when he runs. He's not weaker to be honest. Over time, you can make your enemy get more and more desperate trying to kill you since all you need to do is just make an easy getaway. When they get to the point where they just start tossing the ideas of coherent sentences aside, that's when you strike them down. They go into some kind of extreme tunnel vision as they ignore the fact that you may be literally dropping mines right in front of them and they won't even notice.

"I see…" The Drifter paused as he twiddled his thumbs, "That's a problem, because as you can see." The Drifter materializes a bottle of turbo and screws the bottle into a filter, "I have places to be." The Drifter waved and with superhuman speed, dashed to the cart that Blake sat upon waiting for the Drifter.

Adam was stuck in a psychotic state-of-mind as he dashed towards the Drifter. Rage filled his mind as he dashed after the Drifter, "No! You will not run away this time!" Adam was in hot pursuit and lost the sweet, sweet taste of revenge he could've had.

The Drifter's jump was glorious, even he was surprised by how good it was, it blew Olympic records out the water - but that's not considering the fact that he literally sucked in an entire bottle of speed-juice.

Landing on the next cart was as glorious as a whale doing a bellyflop. He smashed into the destroyed pile of robots granting a small scream of the families behind that door to the third-class cart. Blake on the other hand promptly cut the coupler on the cart and watched Adam disappear into the distance as he became a small insignificant dot before fading completely.

* * *

It's been twenty minutes since the entire ordeal and Blake looked like Hell. Any attempt to talk to her usually granted a sigh. The problem was that families are still bunched up into the back absolutely horrified - and him and Blake are essentially having a Come-to-Jesus moment. She wouldn't speak, but she did look up at him as he rambled to himself to explain why and how she suddenly appeared on this train.

"So… Blake. I'm gonna say that you were a hostage. Does that workout for you?" the Drifter asked as he and Blake kicked their legs over the train tracks as the locomotive sped-on.

She wasn't speaking.

"Blake I know you probably aren't feeling the greatest right now… Hell, you probably just did an immediate break-up with your boyfriend right now!" Blake shoulders tensed after the "boyfriend" comment, but the Drifter continued, "But I hope you know that you left a sinful path, marred by the deaths of innocents." Blake could only nod at his comments _She's really beating herself over this right now._

Blake was still sullen, that was when that same muffled voice entered her ears again, "Let's go inside Blake, I have a cover story and everything. Trust me." Those words pinged around inside her head…

 _Trust me._

The same words that Adam used to say.

"Blake. We need to go inside now. Seriously, there's a ton of civvies in their shitting their pants. They probably think I'm dead now or some shit." He tapped her shoulders and offered her his hand. With hesitation, the quiet girl took his hand and allowed herself to be escorted by him through the robot infested cargo car, somehow barely any of them actually stirred to wake for some reason, but when they did, with sharp dictation, the Drifter told them same simple line "Escorting a confused passenger back to her car" before she could hear the mumbles of slight cries of children, as he attempted to open the door, all chatter quieted, until relief struck the occupants to see their supposed savior, with someone in haul.

"Heyo! This bombastic babe helped me kick the guy's ass!" The Drifter, like a total sir, flourished to Blake, who with a blush, smiled and waved and everyone cheered. The Drifter walked by with the woman in tow as both her and the Drifter received pats on the back, and congratulatory remarks until they moved into the next cart where barely anyone occupied it.

* * *

Leading her into a nearby seat, they sat silent looking at each other, Blake began to get uncomfortable with that deadly stare of his red-visor and decided to break the silence, "Hey, do you ever… Take that helmet off?"

Cocking his head he took a second to think about it, "I think so?" It wasn't a great answer, but that didn't stop Blake from chuckling. He added, "Hey Blake, what are you going to do? People believe that me and you fought Adam, I know this is touchy for you, but I have an offer if you have nothing else."

That took Blake by surprise, sure she made a change for the best, but what does she do now? She really hasn't thought this far ahead, and that was uncharacteristic of her. Maybe she could live in Vale for a while, probably become a huntress instead, but… Beacon. Beacon wouldn't open up for a few months, and then again she needs to find a place and a job for the meantime. But who would accept a Faunus with no background or work experience. That's unless 'Former White Fang Operative' was something she could add onto an application. She could hear-out what this man wanted to offer though. Hopefully it doesn't involve selling her body off as payment. With a sigh she said, "Go ahead, what's your offer."

Clasping his fingers together the Drifter spoke, "You see. I always wanted a travel buddy. Now seeing that you literally are alone, I think it would be nice to have company of someone who would travel with me. Now there is no catch, and you can leave me at any time." He paused, waiting for some kind of response but she just silently nodded. He didn't know what to think, this girl was skittish, but hey - it was worth asking.

Blake sat there and thought with her thumb under her chin, _What if this guy is leading me on?_ The thought alerted her, but then again why would he? He helped her, _saved_ her even when she really thought about it. Surely he wants something out of this, he wouldn't just let her go without anything considering the trouble she was. Unless… Did he like her? Of course not. He just wants a travel buddy, at most she's expecting to be some pack-mule but could she really be this man's companion and not even know his name? She had to make her decision…

Looking back up to the Drifter, and with confidence in her voice she said, "Yes." but with a pause her eyes narrowed, "But tell me first. Who are you?"

* * *

 **Now before you people start having issues with what I do. Other OC characters will be in this fic. They won't be important, or they'll _rarely_ have a small arc for them.**


	7. Attracted to a Beacon

**Holy shit! Sorry for taking forever! I had life to deal with, not only that. I had rewritten this chapter four damn times (all wildly different) and I still don't feel comfortable with it. It just seems... Off. But nonetheless hopefully you can get down with the bit of dirty humor. (I actually feel like I shouldn't of included it a little bit) But I have problems with planning how the story goes. Seriously. I make an outline but I don't know how to effectively make it work as I may follow it for two to three steps, then I completely abandon it. Hopefully this chapter strikes your fancy slightly**

* * *

It was disgustingly musty inside the hotel room, a fowl, yellowing floral wallpaper lined the walls and an ancient blue carpet covers the floor as the horrid smell of "Old-Hotel" reeks havoc on her nose. It was disgusting, and what didn't help was that, there he was, sitting on a bedside chair beside her - that same man who took her in the day before.

"We haven't spoke much…" The Drifter paused for some kind of response. When met with none, he continued, "I know it's hard for you, but seriously, you act as if I'm keeping you prisoner!" She still didn't respond. He couldn't think of what to do! Ideas splashed through his mind: Buy her gifts, take her to a nice dinner - that wouldn't work with the awkward conversation beforehand.

 _Want me to take you to dinner?_

 _Are you coming onto me?_

 _No?_

That idea was tossed around, in the meantime he decided not to waste any more energy cells on his visor and actually shut off that red glow for once. With a click, the red hue of the visor slowly faded into a transparent screen revealing the Drifter's dull blue eyes and the bridge of his nose.

Blake noticed the fade of that predatory glow, and lifted her eyes from the book. There he was, still looking at her, but the light was gone. She was greeted with a sight that actually resembled him to be man, not some kind of machine who looked like a man, but an actual being underneath that helmet. Closing the book, she kept looking at those two orbs sequestered away by the visor. She didn't know what to say, but for once. She didn't feel completely on edge about him. A genuine smile shone across Blake's face as she continued to watch him to stand up and carry himself to the nearest chair to recline.

The Drifter had an epiphany. _What if she doesn't trust me for who I am?_ It certainly made sense at least. She was essentially part of some terrorist group who relied on trust to function. So what if he made a fake personality of himself, she wouldn't know too much besides the vagueness of his background, but the fake name that he made. What should it be? He pondered the question for awhile _Vagus? That's latin for wanderer right? Nah… Too Legion-y._ He paused for a few seconds as Blake went back to her book with a weak, but noticeable smile. He was a military leader essentially back in Vegas, he was damn good at his job too… But who helped break through Bastogne again? _Patton…_ The name was… Nice… But is it him trying to be 'cool'? He is still very young - and impressionable a little bit.

With a sigh, the Drifter retired his title just for Blake only to be called, "Patton…" The Drifter spoke aloud.

With a confused look on her face, Blake twisted her head towards the Drifter, head cocked, "Excuse me?"

"Patton. That's my name." The Drif- Patton merely shrugged at the telling of his new alias.

Blake only nodded, but Patton could tell… Blake appreciated it

"Also Blake, I'm gonna go out and look around town alright? Learn some stuff while out and about"

Without even turning from her book she replied, "Be safe." in a slight deadpan tone. With a shut of the door he was gone.

* * *

Walking through the streets of Vale and distinguishable among the crowd was a certain blonde bombshell, she was sleek, her hair radiated like the sun, she had attitude and she was…

Stuck doing her sister's bidding…

"Yang~!" Ruby puffed her cheeks and pouted at her entrapped sister who was hating her life every second, "You act like you _don't_ wanna go!"

Yang groaned and almost recited like a script she was forced to adopt, "Yes Ruby, I _love_ going with you to every gun show to sit there and watch you fawn over guns. _For hours_."

Ruby instantly deflated and reverted back to her same smile, "Thanks Yang! I knew you liked them too!" Ruby knew she was keeping her sister from that disgusting club. Dad even specifically told her to keep her within arm reach. _Mission accomplished_ she mentally snickered as she kept Yang away from that horrible place.

* * *

"Dear God… I have too much to learn." Patton rested his head on the palms of his hands. He's needing to learn about history, culture, and basic understanding of this world's politics… But then again… He could use the story he told to Blake as an excuse for some inconsistencies - but now, he's swamped with learning about the Grimm. Sadly enough they're all for these so called "Huntsmen" as they don't go into the real biology of Grimm. Things such as birthing, breeding periods, even the basic makeup such as, what their bones are made of are simply gone!

Closing one book upon many that seemed to be a near Copy-and-Paste status. He grabbed the next book, the title read "Aura and You" The font was big and bolded but to Patton - this sounded like some Buddhist ideals, he's not into studying religion so far right now. This Aura stuff he can read about when he gets bored.

Placing the book into the designated, "I ain't readin' this shit" corner he leaves it to abandon as he picks out five books with varying opinions on the Faunus Civil Rights movement. Before even turning the cover, a girl - who was actually fucking hot - sat across from him. She was Blonde, big-titted, wore shorts that were shorter than Daisy Dukes with some weird half skirt that he was sure was meant to cover her ass so people wouldn't stare. Problem was that she looked exasperated, and absolutely tired of bullshit. Sighing she face planted her face into a table and simply tried to get some shut-eye.

Taking it upon himself to do what's right - he left her the fuck alone and continued reading.

Three books later, she finally rose her head up looking and glanced around the room before settling her eyes on Patton. She gave a meek wave with what she thought was luck when he saw the small gesture.

"Hey there." Yang whispered to keep the wrath of the librarian away from her, as she waited for some response before she received none, and decided to give up and lay her head back down _Or just don't answer, that's okay…_ Yang thought to herself

Patton just watched her face contort to a minor scowl before laying her head back down, "Rough day I suppose?" He answered back, mask still glued to the book

Holy crap! He answered back, she actually wasn't expecting it to happen - but any kind of conversation would do for her as she stuttered on her first words, she quickly cleared her throat and began again, " Y-yeah… Sister and all you know? You just gotta love your siblings… Even when they drag you around for hours on end."

"Yeah, I'm an only child."

The conversation was awkward after that… Still Yang Xiao-Long will try her hardest to at least talk to this boy.. Erm… Man! Thing?

" Trust me, sisters are the worst! But at other times they're the sweetest things you can ever have in your life… And you'd do anything to protect them." Yang paused for a response.

"Mhm, family. So you have a sister dragging you around? I thought girls liked shopping?"

"Bah! I wish she dragged me to shop a little bit. All she does is go, 'Guns this! Guns that! Oooh Yang~! Look at this gun' Get what I mean with those people?" Yang provided a mock voice of her said sister as she gestured wildly.

Raising a brow at the girl's antics, Patton didn't actually mind the conversation - he needed the break - but the problem was the girl was a _tad_ loud, "So you're saying that you just abandoned her somewhere and just came here? Man, what mistakes will _you_ make in the future huh?" Patton had a small smirk under that mask - he did like to stir trouble sometimes but it did help with making people say things that they weren't willing to say before.

Yang reared back mouth slightly agape as she processed what he said before countering, "Oh I dunno… A Kick-butt huntress with her awesome team as she joins on awesome fights against evil!" Yang looked mighty cocky for what she said, even doing the whole checking the nails routine with a smirk on her face.

"Oh really…" Patton added as he closed the book seemingly forgetting to put in a bookmark _Son of a bitch._ Patton leaned in on the table and supported his chin with his hand, "So, tell me. How'd you get into Beacon?"

Yang nearly propped up completely, "You got to have to take an entrance exam and submit it to Beacon for review, that's not counting any past experience that you need to list below on a _lot_ of lines."

"So, is admission still open or...?"

"It recently closed, that's unless you do something eye-catching or flashy that they actually take notice."

Both parties promptly shut up as Patton went back to his book before actually getting tired of reading and placed every book back onto a cart to return

* * *

Finding his way back wasn't hard. No, no no… The hard part was literally pushing through and ignoring some people who wanted to "interview" him. Something about that whole train incident with Adam, it was fucking annoying, so he let Blake handle it - and her hating him for pushing that onto her - every interview usually was her stating how they both were training to join Beacon, but they sadly failed to get their forms in time. Some shit like that, it was just a goody-two-shoes story that he now _despised_ if it gave him this attention.

Just a few more steps to paradise… His bed…

The door creaked open and he was greeted with a sight that frankly, he was glad to see. Blake was wearing her weird tiny bathrobe-thingy again. She looked hot with it.

"Sup…" Patton waved lazily as Blake responded back

"Welcome back Patton," There was a small pause before replying in her usual mellow tone, "You've been out for two hours."

Unsure at exactly how to feel, _Am I being scolded? Chided? Or is she just letting me know?_ Patton decided it was the first option, "Mom? Are you disappointed?" he asked with mock childness.

Pointing her finger, and acting slightly authoritarian, Blake puffed up her chest and made herself sound older than she was, "Yes mister, now go back to your room."

Throwing his hands in the air, "Gah Mom, always being a party-pooper!" Both of them had a slight chuckle before Patton belly-flopped onto the bed, a loud crack echoed throughout the room as Blake and Patton looked at each other and unilaterally stated at the same time

" _We never tell the staff about that."_

Twisting over to lay on his back, Patton glanced at Blake's book, "Whatcha readin'?"

"A book about a man with two souls." She answered back without even looking up

Twiddling his thumbs and staring up at the cracked ceiling, Patton was bored. In fact he was too bored. TV only had shit reality shows, or cartoons that were also pretty shit. Flipping to the news channel didn't do much to help. More about dust robberies and direct attacks, in fact there was mention about Blake and him coming up before they cut to the commercial break, Blake was slightly interested but paid more attention to her book instead.

After Patton completely gave his rapt attention to the commercials to hear what else the news agencies have conjured about him and Blake, instead, they were treated to something else.

"Beacon academy so far is wishing for these two aspiring heroes to step-up so they can formally be an addition to the school." The lavender haired anchor said with false enthusiasm as they quickly moved to the next section of news.

"Holy shit…" Patton turned to Blake whose jaw also dropped like a brick, "We got shit to discuss _now."_ There was a pause before Patton dragged a small chair for both him a Blake to the cheap hotel table.

Blake and Patton sat across each other at the small cheap hotel table. Blake had her fingers clasped together as she was wracking her mind on this decision.

"Blake," Patton tapped on the table to garner her attention from the thousand yard stare, "Why're you being so stiff about this? We can just ignore it. It's not like they're actively searching for us. We still have a few weeks till Beacon opens anyway. "

Blake didn't know what to pick, actually, could she pick? She was essentially his travel partner, and joining him to go to school would make him a classmate, while costs and living expenses were covered by the school, she didn't feel comfortable in an academic environment, but then again. Patton would be there. The only person nearby that knows her secret, and so far the only person she can trust. But could she trust her companion's judgement? He did say that he had to rough it out alone ever since he was twelve after he got separated…

Patton attempted to leave his seat before Blake snatched his hand to keep him in place.

"Fucking Hell Blake! Just make up your mind for Christ's sakes!" Patton tugged at his arm slightly

There was a scowl on Blake's face before she quickly went back to her thought filled state-of-mind. Patton was more worried about the girl wearing the weird bathrobe-y thingy giving his wrist a fuckin' death grip!

"We should accept…" Blake said with a slight nod, completely releasing Patton's wrist from that horrid grabby nightmare

"No shit Blake, It's not like I said 'Let's go to the fucking school'" Patton threw his arms in the air

"You didn't actually. You were wanting me to rush an _important_ decision"

"Fuck you." Patton crossed his arms, harrumphed and looked the other way, "I'm right either way." Blake only could chuckle and giggle. She knew he was being rash about it, but this was just him messing around… Being a child… A fully grown child….

Bb

Patton stirred awake in the cold hotel room as the AC-unit still blared in cold air, even when it is 40 degrees fahrenheit. Blake laid curled under the thick blankets of the bedding, but still shivered from the cold. Pulling a spare blanket from a cabinet across the room, Patton gingerly laid the extra blanket over the resting girl.

Taking a step back he left the hotel to find Beacon.

The cool night air felt refreshing, even though it's summer - from what he knew - the nights still got cold, but Patton loved cold, and with the extra layers of duster and armor he's wearing, it was a welcoming feeling.

The streets on the other hand were completely dead, besides the average misfit walking along, there was almost nobody. It left an eerie feeling of loneliness, something Patton was far too used to feeling and even embraced it. Walking through the almost European style structures, the Drifter encountered the same library left vacant and closed until the coming morning.

 _This place is a bitch to find._ Patton sighed explosively. The school was hard to find, he didn't know exactly where either, but from pictures he's seen of it. It's supposed to be some giant as fuck castle - where was the castle? Who knows, it's like they make it invisible or something so people don't rob it at night.

The night sky eventually grew brighter as the sun decided to peek above the horizon and greet the land with a basking glow and the residents of the city finally stirred awake and headed out into the streets - albeit they shuffled like zombies.

But somehow that school eluded Patton! Where the Hell was it!? He checked deep within the city, but no luck. The coast was most likely where it might be.

He prowled the streets combing for the school, luckily for him he saw an enormous turret appear over head. A castle of outright grand size was spotted in the horizon. Situated from what seemed near a cliff, Patton noticed it _Bingo_. A smile grew upon his face as he instantly turned heel back to the hotel.

* * *

Nearly knocking the door off it's hinges, Patton saw Blake was more than wide awake in her usual pajamas. In fact, she was red faced while she clutched a book with the title, "Ninja's of Love" in one hand and her right hand was at her crotch. Wait… Crotch? _Crotch!_

Quickly shutting the door Patton yelled, _"Blake!_ " In all his life, he never caught any of his friends diddling themselves. With a small sigh he added, "Fuckin'- just- Blake… I get… What do I even say?" Actually what could Patton say? _Don't be a pussy-pincher. No that wouldn't work…_ With a pause of him trying to piece words together and Blake looking like she was going to die of embarrassment, he strung together words that hopefully made sense, "Blake. The mess, you'll make. A-and the- the uh… Fuck it. Blake think of this. If _you_ walked in on me jerkin' off. Wouldn't you be caught by surprised?"

Blake could only nod her head as she kept looking at any other direction that didn't have Patton in view. Not only that, he interrupted an important "plot" point.

Accepting that small nod as an answer Patton took gingerly lay on the bed remembering the giant crack that happened after throwing himself like a bag of potatoes on the bed not even able to look at her without some kind of fantasizing _Fuck you hormones_. He laid there completely forgetting to tell Blake that he found the giant castle.

/-/

 **Okay guys, question. should I still do the whole giant line cutting through the page, or should I do this little /-/ thing. I like it as I've seen others use it. It's small and it's unobtrusive.**

 **Secondly, if you peeps know how I should outline each chapter and the plot tell me. I veer off way to quickly and that's where my story falls short. For example, chapter six, It was supposed to still take place in Patch and the Drifter finds Summer's grave. But then I made a realization that the Drifter still had like, 2 months of doing diddly shit. the in between times you guys don't see is the Drifter going back to Earth and shit. But for me to reiterate, if you guys have any advice. I am _begging_** **for it. This chapter was Hell to write. (This chapter was originally gonna take place in Atlas, after 2-3 pages I said fuck it and started again. All-in-all, I wanna learn how to effectively outline the plot and follow it.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Alrighty guys. I'm gonna have to say, I was... Meh with this chapter. The length is nice. But I had to sacrifice by making Blake OOC in some way. Though, what do you guys think of it?**

Blake shuffled slightly in her bed while still embarrassed to look Patton in the eyes. Wasn't hard to understand why when your friend literally walked in on you playing with yourself. Blake noticed he wasn't looking her direction and instead saw him on his side facing away from her on the bed next to hers. A faint bloop of synthesized sounds and a few grumbles of "Fuck you piece of shit" and classics such as, "Get fucked." and, "I fucked you up harder than I fucked up your mom."

Confused, Blake went to investigate. Who wouldn't?

Laying one foot on the carpet she already felt a dirty shiver up her spine _I should've worn socks._ The dingy carpet wasn't exactly the best feeling on bare feet but that didn't stop her intrigue of learning why he was spouting vulgar remarks and swears. She skulked her way over to his bed that creaked every now and again begging for mercy. Each step felt like stepping her feet into a diseased cesspool of late-night drinking _I'm gonna need to boil my feet after this_.

She reached his bed, and standing tall over his body as if she were some mass-murderer ready strike and she peered over his shoulder. What she saw was something she didn't think of. The screen of that worn device was aglow and filled with it were of that of a game. Yup, just a game.

With a few taps on his shoulder she stirred Patton's attention, "Yeah Blake?" He grumbled as more bleeps flew out of the device's hidden speaker.

"Don't you think we should explore the city some more?" Blake asked with one hand on a cocked hip.

"Sure, go get your bath- shower- or whatever you do." Patton just motioned towards the bathroom door before resuming his game. Blake just nodded as her feet padded over to grab a towel and washcloth before disappearing into the small bathroom.

/-/

The distinct smell of fire dust filled the air as factories churned out consumer goods and the streets being filled with trucks loading and unloading cargo on docks or left in warehouses for later shipment.

Blake spun slowly around, taking in all the cobwebs and dust-bunnies that fill the abandoned warehouse, "Why are we here?" She quickly turned to Patton with a raised eyebrow. Patton on the other hand ignored her and went on appraising the warehouse with careful attention to every little detail. From the scarce rusted nut holding the beams up from above, to the cracks in the floor. There was a few catwalks, mostly one that went up by rickety metal steps that led to an abandoned office that looked as if it was left in a hurry.

Taking care to watch each step up the dilapidated stairs they entered the musty office. Rotted ceilings with clear signs of mildew and name tags that were still present, though too faded to read and even a few private photos of the families of those who worked here. They were housed in a coppery picture frame that already had patina slathering the edges. Blake picked up the image glaring at it. It left her with a sense of melancholy. The picture had a child on a red-haired man's lap as a giant banner that said "Happy Birthday!" in a purple font. Other children and adults - supposedly the parents - are there with the same bright smiles.

It was an image of a bygone era. _The people never even knew this place would close down_. The thought came to mind, but what if the people did know? But were just hiding that fact away and acting as if it didn't exist? It didn't matter, she slipped the image out of it's frame and into her back pocket. Why? She didn't know why. She even looked to Patton to see if he noticed.

There here was, Glancing at a private photo, and placing it back down as an unimportant object, she didn't know what he was looking for in this warehouse, but this must be the reason for the sudden dead quiet he was giving. _Does this place remind him of something?_ It made sense, but she would confront him on it later.

"Blake." Patton's voice broke the bleary silence of the office, he was sitting in the office chair reclining and him resting the side of his helmeted head on his fist, "You got all you wanted yet?" His voice was awfully different from what she was used too. Instead of the cheery childish demeanor, she was greeted with a soft spoken man.

"Y-yeah." Blake nodded and looked her friend in the eyes past the visor of his helmet.

"Let's go."

/-/

Patton took glances at the few file folders he found in that office while walking down the industrious street. Blake tried to suppress the urge to look at the folder too, as she spared a glance every now and again with the folder still in Patton's armored grip.

"So," There was a momentary pause before Blake continued, "What's in there exactly."

Patton actually looked up from the folder and somehow never walked into somebody as he was preoccupied with reading the folder, "One word Blake, 'Embezzlement'." She nodded her head understandingly, "In fact - from the records - the business was doing bad in the first place. Higher up wanted to cook the books a bit. They were down a million, but reported a two-million profit." Blake absorbed in whatever she could - even if it was just financial records and employee memos.

The streets began to swell even more with the same traffic. Trucks zoomed by, it was a mesmerizing sight, but Patton and Blake didn't want to sit and gawk, they had a city to explore. That was when a certain white truck was caught in the heat of the traffic. The logo, the same snowflake as the Schnee Dust Corporation. The driver was obviously frustrated from the blockage, but that didn't stop Blake from wanting to nearly growl at the truck.

Patton saw the weird display with a look of absolute confusion. _The fuck is her problem?_ Patton almost tiptoed his way to the pissed girl, "Erm… Blake? You having flashbacks now?"

She didn't find it funny…

She stomped by Patton like the hormonal teenager she was and hissed, "Let's go…" as she dragged him away from the boxy truck, farther away from the industrial district and farther into the nearby ghettos.

/-/

Blake _still_ had that grimace on her face, the kind you get after tasting mystery meat. She still didn't let go of that death grip on his wrist either, he didn't want people thinking they were couple - he was actually thinking more about his wrist's safety. Sadly a few grunts and a couple of pulls, Blake _still_ resolved to tug on him and he eventually gave up, "Blake! Where're you takin' me!" he almost shouted

"I'm taking you to show what the Schnee Dust Company has done to my people!" Blake hissed back with a sickening fervor just as Patton reared back expecting to be yelled at even more, "This corrupt company endangered my people's lives needlessly as they quickly reap the profits leaving us to struggle!"

Minutes go on by as the industrial district gradually fades and the sight of clumped together apartments and faunus crowding the street below. They all wore rather drab clothing more reminiscent of the Wasteland - if you'd discount the fact wastelanders had a niche to place armor on whatever clothing they had - they were the only people who _actually_ stood out. Sadly that granted more than just a _few_ stares.

" _Girl's got a nice ass..."_

" _That dude looks like a shooter!"_

" _Is that girl pissed at her date?"_

Blake, absent mindedly ignored those comments and continued down the street until they got to a "recreation" park (Very light on the "Recreation" part) The park was more of a blank concrete slab with a few trees, benches, and just a few swing sets for the kids. The cement plaza gave enough view of them being boxed in by four walls of just apartments.

Blake, with strong gestures, pointed to the old housing, "We get shoved in small tenant houses with the meager pay! Sure not all Faunus have it bad, but that doesn't stop the greater amount of racism we face!"

Patton didn't know what to say honestly. He wasn't surprised - actually they had it lucky by actually having a house - but how does he break it to her…? That he just… _I've seen worse, Freeside is in the shit pile too._

Blake just stared at Patton expectantly like he was supposed to make some magical epiphany about their situation and instantly feel bad.

"Well… Blake…" Patton was just throwing words together, "It sucks to see people stuck in ghettos, but- what about those who have it rougher?"

Blake nodded her head understandingly, "I understand, but people shouldn't be forced and subjected into this kind of living space. With them barely able to make a living wage, they're going into mines that have the potential to _ignite_! "

Forgetting to secure his "Anti-Get-Blake-Pissed-Off Filter" properly in place he made the _horrid_ decision of speaking without thinking, "Blake, where I come from, we went through a time like that _years_ ago. It only takes time and some action by the affected."

 _Oh fuck… I goofed_

Blake's eyes narrowed dangerously, "I _know_. But that's why we have civil rights groups. Even the White Fang, no matter how misguided!

"Blake - the White Fang is fucking Psychotic for a civil rights group! I mean, Adam What's-his-face basically has the personality of a deranged man! Their groupies just shoved a gun in my face and they think that helps their PR! They're crazy!" Patton realized that Blake's face was darkening, and was heavily gritting her teeth.

With a growl Blake almost screamed at Patton, "You really think they're crazy!" She threw her arms up in the air as passersby stopped in their tracks to gawk at the firefight of words, Patton took notice, Blake clearly didn't, "Talk about them being crazy!? Look at you!" She shoved a finger into his chestplate, "You were able to slaughter a whole group of them and then look me in the eyes as if there was nothing wrong at all!"

"Because Blake," Patton's eyes narrowed in conviction, "I was trying to _protect_ myself."

"It doesn't stop the fact that you killed innocent people!" Blake hissed, as her fists clenched together.

A few people were stopping to take a gander and of course were easily swayed to Blake's side, a few shouts and jeers were directed at Patton, but he didn't care.

Patton swallowed a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself down, before answering back to hopefully end the argument, "Blake, I don't have time for this. I'm going back, but I want to give you some food for thought." Patton pointed a finger dangerously close to Blake's forehead and with a voice that was the embodiment of spite he replied with a guttural tone, "I want you to think of a better solution when you have a whole crew of people wanting to kill you at a moment's notice!"

"Then how abo-" Blake stopped herself when that same red-glow from his visor was back. That bright red left an imposing presence, and in an instant, Patton turned heel, and peeled it out of there.

Blake was going to follow, thankfully she knew best and left the enraged man alone.

/-/

Pushing and rubbing shoulders across the faunus who stared at him with disdain during his attempted leave, Patton was pissed. Who wouldn't be? You got some girl who acts like she fucking knows you and directs you on how to act. Not only that _he_ was the one who offered her an escape. Sure killing in this world was wrong. But what can you do if you were given no choice? Just sit there and _die_? No! You would fight tooth and nail to live! It was human nature. Just because you've killed doesn't make you evil… Right?

Doesn't matter now _That bitch can leave for all I care. She wouldn't understand, she… She shouldn't understand…_ The eyes of devilish red were gone, revealing the same eyes of a dull and worn blue. Luckily, the hateful gazes eventually turned into mere glances of annoyance as Patton was nearing the edge of the ghettos and back into the industrial district.

The warehouse was a prime spot, it was right by the docks too, he didn't know why he liked that fact, he just did. That didn't stop the idea that he might need to look for more backups just in case.

The cacophonous roar of truck engines emanated in the air, the area emanated with smells of brimstone, something Patton was more than used to in the wasteland. Workers brushed on by them, some with soot on their faces and business officials sometimes rubbing shoulders with the workers. It was a strange sight, but they nonetheless don't seemed bothered, most likely they accepted it as a part of their life.

As much as Patton wanted to look around for more abandoned or empty warehouses, he just wallowed in the streets with the rest of everyone else. He actually didn't want to look around, and for once he felt just tired. The sun was still up, but there wasn't any real rush. He might as well get the most out of that hotel room. With the little amount of lien he has left, and with little motivation, he decided to hike back to the room.

/-/

Cold water was rushing out of the sink, and laid on the counter was Patton's helmet, the eyes now left with lifeless voids. Distinct sounds of brushing sounded the room as the blue foam dripped from his lips. He vigorously kept at his brushing even when he heard the door click open.

 _I'm going to be kicked out aren't I?_ Blake thought. She wasn't worried too much, she's been out alone before, _What's going to happen when I enter this room? A fight, probably worse than the last._ She was having second thoughts opening the door.

After hardening her nerves, she was resolute on opening the door. Thankfully, with the extra key she had, she slowly, but surely opened the door. Water was running - snapping her head to her right, she saw Patton. His helmet was firmly planted on the counter next to him, His hair from what she could from the rear, was seemingly left in a crew cut, and his hair was in a darkened sandy blonde that looked as if it lacked luster.

"Hey." Blake called, She waited a few moments just staring before timidly entering the room and planting herself on her bed. She laid her head down and watched expectantly for him to make at least some kind of remark - unless you consider the sounds of brushing teeth a response - she watched as he kept going for what felt like minutes. Before finally a squeak and then the water halted.

Seating the helmet back on his head, he turned to face Blake with those same blue eyes that peered from his visor, Blake was wincing, she was fully expecting to straight up get kicked out. Who wouldn't? Fighting with the one that is essentially giving you a place to stay? The one who essentially tried to give you a new life? Did she just trash it? _I gotta pack up._

He just sat there with a blank gaze and watched the girl try and gather what little possessions she had into a small bag. Any sound was the sound of clothes rustling or a zipper being opened, that was until his nonchalant voice shattered the silence, "I didn't say you had to leave."

Wait… What?

She was taken aback, Adam wouldn't allow that kind of argument from anybody, in fact he would find some horrid way to punish them. This man just brushed it off. _Why?_ The thought flashed in her head.

Patton merely waved her off, and back on the road again was his cheery attitude, "Bah! I wasn't _that_ angry at you! But that doesn't mean I can't forgive. I kill people - yeah it's "wrong", but you ain't so innocent yourself. Also, I've fought with my fair share of travel buddies." The thought of Jericho echoed in his mind. _Eughh… Him_. They argued a lot, but they stuck through thick, and thin. He shrugged the thought off and continued, "Besides, my Ma always got pissed when I argued with the other neighbor's kids. So she told me to, "Agree to disagree" Too bad that idea didn't help too much before." Patton sighed.

Blake could only chuckle, for someone who could look a man in the eye and shoot them, he was a momma's boy, "You must've been a good child when you were younger huh?"

He was taken aback by the statement as if it was almost some kind of horrible insult, "Good? Boy!? Those two words don't mix for me - except for the boy part and all - but still! I was a troubling lil' thing back then! Ma would always whip me. Pa was worse when he had a belt. Pa _also_ knew locking me into a room was essentially torture and he did just that. Left me in a room with a bookshelf and I was forced to sit and read when I wanted to go out."

Blake sat cross legged on the bed with an amused smile quickly building on her face as she watched her partner recounting the tales of the punishment he would receive from his parents.

The day went by quickly as he told stories of his family, to Ian being a little wuss, to Roddy being an awesome hero, no matter how drunk, or how often he would try to pick up girls that were two times younger than him. Though as the day dragged to night Blake was laid still in her bed, and Patton retreated to his own - lights off with only the glow of the TV providing light as they watched nightly news - she actually read her book and just listened to the news. Instead of the usual Lisa Lavender providing cover stories. It was a replacement female anchor due to the fact that, she too, is human and needs to have a life as well.

"News of the rising prices of dust continue to surface as more, and more brutal attacks on the Schnee Dust Company continue to pile!" The overenthusiastic anchor rambled out of her mouth.

Patton lazily glanced over to his right, and watched Blake almost secretly revel in satisfaction. _Time to burst that little bubble._ "Blake, if they go bust, hundreds of faunus will lose their jobs. It's not like Schnee's are gonna just give what money they have left away either. They're gonna probably rebrand or something." His voice was nonchalant, but the smile hidden behind his gasmask lied to what he actually felt.

As if he pressed a button, Blake's smiled turned upside down when reality bitch-smacked her. _Oh Lord… Toying with her is gonna be the best payment she could ever give me._

In a voice that nearly sounded like defeat, Blake grumbled, "I'm gonna go to sleep," and with a click, the TV shut off. She turned to her side with a huff, fluffed her pillow and laid her head down on it's soft confines.

 _I wonder why she still wears a bow in bed._ Patton thought, but then again he saw the bow twitch a few times. So possibly some horrible growth? Then again… She was literally at the island of the Faunus. Is she one too? Is she trying to hide that she's one? Whatever, didn't matter. He had more important work to worry about and that thought could be dealt with later.

/-/

There he was. Staring up at the ceiling, hands on his gut just twiddling his thumbs. He was waiting for Blake to actually fall asleep, and when the sound of long, deep, relaxed breaths left the girl - he knew he was in the clear.

Slowly raising from the bed in an attempt to completely minimize any squeaking. The carpet provided reasonable padding but to reduce risk, he tried to spread his weight as much as he can, and moved slowly to the door.

Luckily there was little to no creaking for the door as he shut the door and snuck off into the night.

/-/

The Industrial district was still rowdy with all the machinery, perfect cover for any noise that the Transportalponder Mark II would ever make. He had the device actually modified a few times by Mobius and the rest of the Think Tank. Instead of it being as loud as a bomb going off - which was fixed _quickly_ thanks to the fact that it nearly shattered every single beaker and flask inside the Think-Tank, and not including the fact that it also shattered the fish tank of the Think Tank's resident pet fish - now it sounded like a firecracker going off. Not only that, a separate tripod was added and the large pistol now essentially turned into a rifle thanks to a new "feature" being added.

The device could make an interdimensional bubble that could be sustained when provided ample power by fusion cores. You could enter it and leave it like a spherical door - whatever sense that makes.

Finding the Docks? Piece of cake. Finding the warehouse? Easy as pie. Problem was that some people also fancied that warehouse too. Sadly enough it seemed to be some orange-haired, white-coated, cane-wielding, man who dressed _way_ too flamboyantly. He was directing a very easily identifiable White Fang member.

Hiding behind a crate in the distance, Patton pulled out his COS rifle, and steadied his scope on the two men. They obviously couldn't see him, he was prone and had his body angled behind the crate to where his outline was barely visible.

The ordeal lasted five minutes before they disappear behind another building. Leaving the White Fang member to enter the same warehouse that Patton was going to use…

 _Fucking damn it!_

Patton was low to the ground, he withdrew Sleepytyme - one of his favorite weapons for close-quarter engagements - slowly but surely he made what was minutes feel like hours as he skulked to the rear entrance. Every step he made had a chance of being caught, but with eyes constantly scanning for any possible threat that wasn't going to be a problem. He reached the door as it opened with a slight squeak.

Musty damp air struck Patton, familiarity was brought to life as a faint reminder of the bombed out, dilapidated office buildings back on Earth. Patton felt at home with his gun still clutched in his hands, and this White Fang member? It was just a typical raider or fiend in his mind.

Patton watched like a predator as the White Fang member was marking walls and the floor. Most likely placement for some kind of base as to where furniture and such are going to go.

"Why'd they let a human on board." The disgruntled White Fang member with a Tiger tail mumbled with a gruff tone.

Unluckily for him, those were his last words before three sub-sonic 10mm rounds pierced the back of his skull as the exit wounds of the burst caused an explosion greymatter and gore and he dropped to the floor like a sack of hammers.

Patton now had evidence of death on the floor, thankfully he knew what to do with it.

Materializing the tripod and placing it level to the ground, the Transportalponder MK II was mounted on it. Holding the trigger for seventeen seconds, the sounds of began to whir before it matched the hum of a miniature car engine on idle. Finally a blue bubble of a rip in space was generated.

The blue hue was bright, but beautiful. A true testament to science. Taking a moment to fireman carry the cadaver - not minding the continuously dripping brains - he walked into the portal entering the same anti-septic scented room of familiarity.

"Honey! I'm home~!" Patton called out for Klein to float his fat metal body over, "And I brought presents~!" That last bit worked a lot more than it should've. Almost the entire Think Tank ran (More like floated) their way to Patton as if he was Santa Claus handing out gifts.

"Lobotomite! You're back! Back from the… Forbidden-Realm!" Kleine bellowed in some grandiose fashion, "Not only that you brought a living speci-"

The cadaver flopped to the floor as the rest of the brain just flew out of the gaping missing shard of skull in the poor man's head. It looked like pink scrambled eggs falling on the floor.

"Annnd it's dead…" Dr. 0 piped up, before continuing with now reduced enthusiasm, "Good job I guess. But isn't this just a regular man?"

Patton could only shake his head, before pointing at the very obvious tail. They _quickly_ pieced it together before already having a robot drag the body away, and a smaller robot follow right behind sucking up the leaking bodily fluids. Mobius was still there just zoning out though as everyone else was giddy by actually having a specimen to poke sticks at.

Walking up to Mobius, he tapped the monitor stirring Mobius from his stupor, "Huh? What? Yes?" Mobius almost dropped out of the air before balancing himself.

"Mobius, what do you think of introducing an _invasive_ species to Remnant?" Patton asked as Mobius was unsure of where exactly he was getting at.

"It depends. Who or what are you even going to drag back to that world with you?" he asked, interests already piqued.

"How would putting another Wastelander or two on Remnant sound?"

"Oh…"

 **/-/**

 **Okay, so you people want a romance with Blake. If I actually decide of making a romance with Blake, it's going to be a good while before they actually get stuck together. You'd see more of an OOC Blake, and it would obviously take a while. Having an easy romance is boring to read. So I'd have to try really hard. Though with my problem of wanting to go to bed at 1 in the morning doesn't help at all for me. Actually, I didn't like the end of this chapter and obviously I could've done better. Hopefully the length is acceptable. But I should start replying more to Guest comments. I reply to reviewers who have an account with PM's. It'd be only fair to do the same for the ones who aren't using/don't have an account.**

 **Before I begin, I wanna take the time of day to actually thank you people for reading and reviewing my work. I didn't expect this many people to read or actually like this. It's shit compared to other people's work, but I'm trying my best to improve. So please. Tear my story apart and tell me what could be better. Structuring and the such. Also, I'm on my search on how to properly add em-dashes to this bitch still. I dunno if they're not allowed**

 **I also have a setup on how to plan the plot. It's very plain and basic, but I don't mind. I usually plan things out far ahead, but I leave them vague and I add details to the closest chapters. When I move on to the next, I find the next line of vague detail on what to do, and I expand it. That's the only way I know on how to plan things ahead. Now onto the Guest Replies for last chapter**

 **Guest: I haven't exactly planned for there to be a straight up relationship between Blake and Patton. I could probably get them together. But Blake isn't the kind of touch-feely character like Yang or someone else would be. She's a lot more reserved. But Adam? Patton _probably_ might not bang Blake, but Adam is gonna be in a Hell of a fight when he actually fights Patton.**

 **Bane: Holy Hell. You people are already shipping them! They haven't even reached Beacon to actually meet the other characters! I might find ideas for romantic options but for your other ideas? Eh... You gotta remember. Also, Patton never meant to actually go out and just be a savior to humanity. He's doing almost everything for an educational experience, Blake is more of a test for Patton, to see what it's like to have someone from this world interact with him.**

 **Okay, finally guys. Big announcement. I have a few stories conjured up in my head. I won't say what they are, I might list them on my Profile. Kind of a Works in Process list. So if you wanna know what I'll be writing up when I have the time. Check my profile in a day or a few.**

 **Sorry for this huge Author's Note too.**


	9. Chapter 9

A long three hours of paperwork and micromanaging later he finally did it! Five soldiers - of which three were recruits and two were of higher rank - with one extra man. The man was someone he could trust, a fellow Vault Dweller. That's what he says he is though, he's elderly, but kick ass. Everything Patton needed.

Grabbing a mug of coffee with the last of the forms being taken by a Mr. Handy, Patton watched as the Protectron construction crew and men stood ready to be transported to their new Summer home. Checking his own watch on his Pip-Boy, it was already damn four in the morning. It was best to hike it back to the room and get some shut-eye.

Pushing haphazardly whatever papers existed on the table into the top-right corner, Patton dragged himself out of the small room he designated his office, and out to the portal. He didn't need to see them on his way out - he already gave them a list of what to do when they arrive. The basic stuff: Activate locator beacon so he can confirm where they're at, set up a small outpost, use strictly the microfusion-breeder weapons they were provided (mainly to save on multiple trips) and report statuses. That's basically it. Simple as that. Almost all of it is just to make busy work though.

 _Maybe it was too simple?_ Simple as in too vague. Though he trusted these people enough, there should be no worry. They would report when he gets back to Blake.

/-/

A man with silvery hair and a face that reeked experience rested against the cold interior of a warehouse. Boxes piled high that had obvious signs of abandon filled the room. His first impressions?

Pretty shit.

All he needed to do was start up his radio, send out the signal, and pray that kid's soldiers actually pickup.

Placing a dish pointing out of a window frame that still had fragments of shattered glass he continued to wire the ham radio with the dish and set the frequency that he memorized. Dead air emanated from the speakers until voices of distress came through,

"Where the fuck are you!" A voice with a heavy German accent that was thick enough to beat cold syrup in a viscosity contest blared through the speakers as there was murmurs in the background.

"Calm your tits. I didn't kick the Enclave's ass only to-" the tribal was interrupted by the raging Na- German.

The man was _clearly_ stressing _way_ too much over this. He's fine! He's not his mother either, she died around - thirty? No, forty years ago. Probably. _Damn I'm old._ "We don't care about that. Walking through that portal could've caused some cataclysmic event! Or maybe-"

"Yeah… No. I'm just gonna wait it out here - see if I can get response from the kiddo." The tribal didn't need to worry about that guy, he was sure they were fine. All he needs to focus on is survival and possibly have him come to help. From the shattered window, the sun seems to be rising. Lucky him.

/-/

It was two in the afternoon, Patton felt satisfied! Good rest, sleep schedule was fucked most likely - but at least he got a good rest. He reclined on the bed. Watched the news, the usual appeared. Them making a huge deal because some famous dude fucked another famous chick and some shit. Blake on the other hand was… Disappointed? Could he call the look she gave him that? Like… disgruntled-parent-dissatisfied-with-their-child.

Blake sat on a nearby chair, leg crossed over the other, and she crossed her arms as if she was some mother ready to scold, "Any reason why you slept this late? You usually wake up early. This is new." Blake's voice was direct as if she expected an answer now.

Slightly shrugging and with a nasally tone, Patton whined like a child,"Mommy! I had extra homework to do!"

Blake laughed at that, "Well whatever it was, you need a break. " Blake stood up and walked over the TV and shut it off before planting herself beside Patton, "I think it's Mommy's turn to show her child a nice place."

"Kinky."

"Not that way!"

Patton rolled his eyes — something Blake clearly took note of — but besides his obvious annoyance at losing his TV privileges temporarily, Blake reverted back from doting mother to being actually concerned slightly, "You say you go out and do research, I understand you go on this… Expedition, to help you understand the world better, but I believe you need to take a break and relax."

Patton was… Baffled? He did need a break, but how convenient was it of her to offer him some R-n-R from that office work? But it was meant for the whole pilgrimage thing right? Whatever, office work is like going on a journey. A journey of carpal tunnel syndrome and lost sleep—but nonetheless it's a journey.

"Sure. Why not?" Patton clambered off the bed, and much to Blake's pleasure was finally granted the temporary title of "Leader" of the party, "Lead the way Blake." Patton said begrudgingly.

/-/

He should've expected it really. Blake dragged his ass to a bookstore. The rickety old sign read, "Tukson's Book Trade" it could be also read as "Blake's Smut Capital" and a subtitle that read, "Home to every book under the sun" or more better titled "You got a fetish? We have it!" Or Patton was probably busting Blake's (metaphorical) balls a little bit.

Inside was a kindly man though, he was armed with some pretty rad sideburns and nice clean-cut hair. He greeted Blake and Patton in tow with the same respect, no matter how much the Drifter looked like he could rip his head off.

"Ah! It's great to see you again Blake." Tukso turned to Patton with the same thoughtful smile, "I see you brought a friend." He gestured kindly to the armor clad bulk of badassery. Before settling back to leaning on the counter.

Blake already had a grin on her face, "Thanks. My friend has been needing time to calm down." She turns to look to her friend, "Right Patton?"

"Sure." Patton didn't care—he kind of did—but that doesn't mean he was missing out on having an epic journey killing large beasts of destruction. He was _perfectly_ fine sitting in a tiny-ass bookstore that probably doesn't even have a bathroom for him to use those few porn magazines that were terribly hidden behind a few shelves.

He wasn't mad at all!

"Then please, take a seat around and read what you like" Tukson proceeded to walk to the back and reemerge with a stack of books and plopped them on the counter, "I'd recommend your friend Patton to read these."

Patton just stared at the stack of five books. They were relatively thick, but the titles all kinda sucked. Whoever wrote the books didn't win an award for "most creative title" Some were labeled as "The War of (insert what ever name of country here)" Sure there were books like that back on Earth, but they used "The War of" on a more grander scale. Not this. They sounded more like text books.

Tukson kept looking at Patton, expecting him to take a book. He couldn't say no without disrespecting the guy, and he was nice enough.

Biting the bullet, Patton hefted the meaty books next to where Blake was sitting and decided to read the book that nestled in the center of the stack of leather and paper.

"The Traveler"

The Book was the thinnest of the bunch, something quick to get through first. And so he dug in.

A story of a veteran of Remnant's Great War. He lost his home during the war and his family. Blah, Blah, Blah. It was really boring. In fact, it was very easy to tell where the book was going.

Okay, he was exaggerating. The book was an okay read honestly, nothing _spectacular_ or holy-shit-this-is-fucking-groundbreaking but more along the lines "it's nice." Still he had four more books to plow through and he-

His Pip-Boy beeped

Patton nearly knocked the entire stack over earning a funny look from Blake. But Patton had more important things to worry about. He panned through the radio, and lo and behold. There they were. His radio listed that it worked. Except that there was two signals. _Someone was separated?_ Patton didn't like the idea of his men in some crowded city walking around with a shit ton of robots and power armor. That's attention they _didn't_ need!

Scrounging the books and nearly throwing them at Tukson, Patton was in a rush and was exasperated, "Sorry Blake. I have to get something _really_ important." Blake was speechless, they were there for barely two hours and he suddenly just hops up and leaves?

Blake grabbed his wrist, "I thought you agreed to take a break?"

"No- I mean… Yes! But this is very damn important!" Patton stumbled and tugged his arm for Blake to release her iron grip.

With a sigh, she shook her head, "Fine." the Faunus released her grip, and went back to reading her book, "Just be quick alright?"

"Yeah, yeah Blake—I get it!" Patton waved the girl off before nearly going into some wild sprint out of the door into the streets.

Blake just watched with slight worry. _What's wrong with him?_ Maybe he left something important? _Maybe I should watch over him?_ Yeah—that sounded good, make sure he doesn't harm himself in whatever way.

She made up her mind, slamming her book shut, she pushed it aside, "I'm coming back in a little bit." Blake huffed, obviously annoyed that Patton may have just gotten this day _way_ more complicated than it should've been, Tukson almost seemed to share the same thoughts as her though.

"You make sure your friend is safe." Tukson nodded before Blake bolted out of the building into the same city streets.

/-/

Patton and the Tribal silently sat across from each other in the abandoned warehouse. Water damaged boxes, rotted furniture, musty stale air. All reminiscent of the wasteland, something the two contrasting figures were _more_ than accustomed to.

Patton unseated his helmet from his head and let it take space on the table while the Tribal had a bottle of whiskey on standby.

The Tribal's Vault Jumpsuit was a contrast to his drinking buddy's duster. The normally bright blue associated with Vault suits was sun bleached revealing a more aged, weathered blue. The vibrant yellow stripes were replaced with a more rough sandy tone as stitches were randomly splayed over the attire thanks to the constant years of wear and tear. Leather pockets lined the waist and leather padding with obvious steel inserts gave whatever extra protection the lack-luster vault suit couldn't.

"You got an idea on how this should work?" Patton asked with some inkling of hope that the Tribal would somehow have some amazing idea to work out in the end.

The Tribal cocked his head, "I thought you were the one calling the shots?" He chuckled before accidentally knocking over a bottle of precious whiskey that was still almost full. _Fucking damn it._

"I mean, my friend is gonna be suspicious if I bring a random old guy with me you know?"

Wait… No he didn't. He didn't just call him that, "Old!? _Old!?_ I'm not old! I'm 'Thoroughly-mature' get it right!" The Tribal almost awkwardly groped his stubble-covered chin in thought as he was trying to conk out an idea, "Maybe… We could…Nah." He shook the idea, it was wacky. Dying his hair, using plastic wrap to stretch his skin back to remove some of the few wrinkles he had and trying to act "hip" probably would still make the girl suspicious. Or he'd look like a victim of a botched plastic surgery attempt.

"Hey T, how about we get out and talk about this more? So we're not stuck breathing in this moldy air?" Patton asked while slipping on his helmet, he quickly flipped through the night vision, thermal, and EM for shits and giggles. That was until his eye caught something while using night vision.

 _Glowing_ — _wait! Oh lucky me~!_

The outline of a female was very visible, she was just outside the broken window that the radio dish also shared. It wouldn't be smart to go after her, instead, let her come to him.

Like they say: Curiosity killed the cat.

Patton raised an eyebrow as he slid from his seat and back onto his feet.

"Yeah. This mildew is getting to me."

/-/

The street wasn't as packed today as it usually was. Meaning: No dumbasses standing side-by-side taking up the entire fucking sidewalk, and not too many people. Not only that, Blakey-Blakey is following them, and a multitude of ideas was coming to mind on how to corner her.

 _Oh Blake_ — _you don't play that way with me_ the devilish thought cooked and simmered. Patton _loved_ it when someone tries to spy on him. The look of surprise on their face when they get caught so easily is worth it! Too bad they all sucked. Blake did okay.

The Tribal scratched his chin and asked with slight nervousness, "I know you have guys here. But what exactly do they have with them? I saw some of their stuff, but most were in the crates."

With a nod of his now helmeted head, Patton answered, "They have an OV-10 right now, and the Protectron crews are supposed to start building a proper base for them. They're stationed on an island called Menagerie in a desert supposedly 'Inhospitable' but they should be good. The amount of firepower my men have will easily tear most anything apart on this planet."

T nodded with an understanding look on his face.

"Not only that—our guns are far more superior than those that are made here. They seem to base their science off of more ideas that you would see in a fantasy book. Some things can work, but they don't have a real explanation on _how_ it would work. Understand?"

Eyes were sometimes shooting out at the older Tribal and the young Drifter, among the clean brightly colored pastels or dark color palettes that match, the dirty Vault suit and Elite Riot Gear provide instead a complete break in the colors. Green and White on the shoulder pads with the sandy duster was an alien sight.

Patton knew Blake was trying to keep a keen eye and listen in, but that's difficult to maintain when _everyone_ on the street is speaking too. With a sharp grin under the mask, Patton continued, "Do you feel like a bar? You know, somethin' to grease your throat.",

T could only nod at the idea. Besides, he was a liquor lover, he couldn't help but imagine the kind of stuff that's there.

They continued to walk to the closest bar in mind, or at least one that they could find.

 _Bar, bar, bar, bar…. Where the fuck is one?_

After almost a Fruitless search, a bar was found! Mangy, old, and falling apart, it already felt like home

"After you?" Patton flourished sarcastically only earning a grunt from his senile companion.

The room was pretty much just like the outside. Stools with a few booths and dust fluttering in the stale air. A few patrons littered the building in varying degrees of being wasted. The Bartender looked discontent with his life but kept on living meagerly.

They sat on a fake leather cushion in a booth that was slowly falling into disarray, and they continued the conversation they were having.

"You know about the desert you sent them to right?"

Patton slowly nodded, "Yeah, of course. I wouldn't send them to some _place_ without confirming it was safe." That was a flat lie.

"Good."

 _I wonder if Blake is gonna grow some balls and come in here_ Patton conjured with a grin. His radar says that she's most likely just sitting outside. Now he's just waiting for her to make a move.

Enter, or leave. He knew Blake was arguing with herself on how to go about this, but he really wants to insure that she can't get away. _Is she listening in?_ Patton decided to lay the bait.

"Ay, I'm gonna use the restroom A'ight?" Lumbering his body from the booth he dragged himself to the bathroom that was to the right of the bar counter. A few people sat there, an old washed up man with some kind of cape who just kept staring at the Drifter with sharp eyes, and two tired men that were minding their business.

Patton paid little mind though and pushed through to the small dirty bathroom. Homesickness was already screaming at the Drifter. Dust glazed over the windows? Check. A toilet with a broken lid? Check. Visible rusty pipes for the Toilet and sink? Check. Everything lined up and felt more relaxed than ever.

"Sad that I'm more welcoming of a run down bathroom than a hotel." The dry chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned on a sink for a minute, then flushed the toilet, and wetted his hands to give the impression he washed his hands and left the room back to his booth.

He walked with a bit of a swagger hoping she caught the bait. That same washed up man kept throwing gazes that could penetrate inch thick steel. With a gruff tenor in his voice, he called out to the Drifter stopping him in his tracks, "Hey. I saw you on the news."

Stopping dead in his tracks and turning heel first, Patton answered back, "Oh sweet! Did I look good? Or did my my accomplice take all the glory?"

"Ehh…" The dusty man groaned, "Coulda looked better."

"Oh—was it her then that caught all the attention?" Patton looked away a moment to the tribal and then back to the dusty bird of a man, "Damn, I even did the talking," The Drifter acted a small pantomime of kicking a can, "I guess when you get a girl that wears a skimpy outfit like that then most guys would probably be lookin' too." The Drifter enjoyed the jab at Blake and almost internally prayed that she heard it.

The man almost looked like he was about to die from the way he sputtered his drink and laughed, "Yup, girls nowadays don't know how to dress…" He added, "Not that I mind."

"Well, I gotta get back to my—"

"Why not bring your friend over? I'd like to meet him, of course—I would expect some free drinks…" He swirled the glass of whiskey around in a tempting manner.

Under his helmet, Patton's lips were pursed. _Should I? Should I really bring T over here?_ _Fuck it. Why not?_

Taking a leap of faith, he hoped both of these old men were gonna get along. But considering they're both old as hell, the worse they'll do is delve into tactics in how to consistently win Bingo or some shit.

"Sure." Patton waved over to T, "Getcha ass over here T! I made us a friend!"

Only grumbles were heard from T, "Fucking damn it. What trouble did you get yourself in?"

Rolling his eyes as the dusty old drinker watched with a smile, Patton droned, "No, T, this isn't New Reno, or San Francisco." Midway through he gave Patton that, "You telling the truth?" gaze, "T, it's fine. C'mon" Patton gestured to the seat.

"Fine, but no funny business." T groaned slightly as he left the booth.

Patton could only roll his eyes, he wasn't trouble… well, not always. T took his seat on the stool right by the older man.

"Names, Qrow by the way." He stuck his hand out to Patton,and Patton returned the gesture, "I've heard a bit about you…"

"Oh really now?" Patton replied with exaggerated surprise, "Did I end world hunger?"

"No, no, no." Qrow shook his head with a sly grin. The alcoholic man leaned in, whiskey permeating his breath as he whispered to the armored wastelander, "I heard about a big fight down in Menagerie. Backed up with Security camera footage and everything. I wouldn't expect you know anything about that huh?"

Fuck… What was he thinking when he fought those fucks? Of course there was gonna be some kind of camera to catch the action. He just wasn't used to actually have to worry about cameras. Would this mistake really fuck over this study he was having?

Lowering his voice similar to Qrow's, Patton replied as vaguely as possible, "You say there was a huge shindig down at Menagerie. Whatcha gettin' at?"

With an even growing smile, Qrow added, "Not only that… But someone who was able to go toe-to-toe to Adam and take a blow from his blade with ease? That must be someone special!" The man's face screamed, "I caught you" and Patton knew it too.

The stale air was getting thick and threatened to just solidify. Patton's eyes remained leaned away, back straight. He was getting ready to fight. His hand was itching for his Ranger Sequoia. Qrow on the other hand kept his smile. Cocky and in control it read.

 _What the fuck do I do? I don't want to start another killing spree!_ The wastelander was stuck. Kill in the city, be on the run, or run away and possibly have someone _very_ dangerous come for him. Leaning farther back, he saw Blake still sitting there, a cold face was plastered on her. Even she looked uncomfortable in this Standoff.

That was when the sound of a clearing throat killed the silence. The noise belonged to Qrow.

"I understand kid, seeing you and your friend got invited to Beacon. I'm expecting you to be worthwhile kid. In the meantime, Ozzy is going to like the fact I met the boy himself." The fucker was smiling an even brighter smile! He pulled that shit and nearly caused that bar to become a bloodbath!

"Yeah, well go to hell. You bout' made me turn this place to ash thanks to you." Patton grunted and forced himself off his stool, "T. C'mon."

"Fine." T groaned. The Tribal was pissed, he didn't even get to finish his fourth beer!

"You too Blake..." Patton growled. Blake's ears perked up. She didn't even hesitate and quickly followed him out of the bar.

Qrow watched the three leave the bar. A content look was carved on his face. _This kid has potential_...

 **Alright guys, it was a _long_ ass time since I last updated. So I learned how to write a chapter: Force myself. Literally. I just keep working and then edit the story. I don't like the way this chapter ended but I hope it was a "Damn" moment**


	10. Chapter 10

The hum of turboprops blared through dusty night air as disgruntled Gibson mumbled about how he was tired… Too tired. His OV-10 painted in green camouflage lazily flew on by as he constantly rubbed his eyes. He even was stirred awake every now and again by Bismarck literally shouting as loud as he could into his own radio. That didn't stop the torture of lack of sleep gave him. He consistently complained to himself until, slowly, over the grand distance, small flickers of light hit his tired eyes. Taking this as possible evidence, he yawned and then radioed in his report with a bedraggled voice,

"I have sight on the possible city. Do you need to me investigate further Bismarck?" _Please God, don't make me… it's a two hour fly back._ The pilot's near dead mind reeked irritation.

There was dead air until the the onboard radio crackled to life, "I'd recommend so, it was reported it to be relatively large, turn on your night vision and take a look."

"Roger that." the pilot replied. _Fuck me_.

The hum continued until he reached over the city and…. Yup, lights. Multiple actually. More are even being turned on? What the hell?

As he flew over he saw more houses continuously flip on their lights which was most of the city in the general vicinity he was in. He wasn't high either. The outline of his plane was completely visible. _Sonuvabitch, I gotta turn_. Gibson panicked slightly. He was halfway expecting someone to be a dumbass and shoot at him. He had to contact Bismarck,

"I'm confirming here that this is the place. Everyone is waking up. I'll be heading back now. I think I caused more noise than I should've."

"Let's hope they don't get a good sight on you. Head on back, we have work to do tomorrow…" Bismarck called back. Things were just getting started back at base. From the Protectrons building, to them setting the defenses on their HQ on Remnant. Barbed wire, fencing, and of course turrets. That's not considering the robot workbench that's yet to be constructed, "My days never end do they?" Bismarck groaned.

/-/

Sand was thrown around, half the improvised ground crew look near dead tired as they immediately tried to get whatever sleep they could get after the OV-10 stopped. No attempt was made to taxi it into the rushed, temporary hangar. Gibson, looked from the distance at his fellow buddies, they were all heading to the same tent. The barracks.

"God damn fucking planes." Gibson grumbled like an old man who wasn't given his applesauce, "How the fuck do I get out!" He couldn't see, and the night vision didn't help. Trying to see with only a small tube as your point of view, and said tube literally being long enough to actually hit your stomach is something that pissed the pouty pilot to no end.

After an incessant struggle with the harness and a few swears later on varying levels of vulgarity, Gibson finally did it! He was free!

Closing the large canopy, Gibson slowly but surely dragged himself back to the tent. Sadly, the sleeping arrangements weren't ideal.

Having your robots literally place your sleeping quarters right next to all the angle grinding, welding, and plasma cutting of metal is almost impossible to sleep to. Still, when you're tired, you are _tired._ Doesn't matter where it was, the beds were soft (A _very_ big plus), and welcoming. Even though the sound was unbearably loud, It eventually muffled to silence as sleep took over Gibson.

/-/

"Reports of an unidentified flying object were seen over Menagerie. Flying from the desert over, it quickly turned and flew back into the distance. The strange aircraft was caught on camera by many onlookers..." The TV hummed as T perused through the dust shop flipping through heinous amounts of gun magazines. Sadly—the designs—they were all… Erm…Disgustingly bright. As in design choices that looked so shit that even Pollock would sneer in disgust.

Pink sword that looked like some fucked up lovechild between a katana and a Greatsword? Check! Shotgun with an axe at it's stock. Yup. These designs were all impractical. But nonetheless when he looked to his right. A girl wearing headphones and a red hood over her head was enjoying the designs a _lot_ more than she should. She was having these strange small convulsions… Actually… Why was she staring at him?

He traced her eyes and noticed that she was looking at his piece. A Pancor Jackhammer that hung lazily on it's two-point sling across his back. _Eugh…_ He forced a smile and turned away from the neurotic girl _She seems to have an extra chromosome or two._

After torturing himself with the terrible magazines that populate this store. He was gonna head out for tonight and catch some shuteye. Placing the last magazine down, the door rang as multiple feet clattered into the building.

To the Tribal, this was making him paranoid. He was having New Reno flashbacks again.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a Dust shop open this late?" A voice spoke.

The Tribal paused for a moment just to confirm, not go overboard with what he was going to do

" _Please, just take my Lien and leave!"_

 _Fuck it._ The Tribal knew this was going to Hell soon. He had multiple ideas concocted in his wastelander mind of his _Just gun them all down? No… Take the leader for hostage?_

Sadly thoughts like these didn't last when he had some dude pointing one of those toy guns in his face.

The goon yelled with a fiery fervor, "This is a robbery!" this approach didn't get the illicit response he was expecting.

The Tribal's eyes snapped towards the man as he whipped his 223. Pistol from his holster. This left the man no time to react as a round barreled it's way through his head.

Quickly placing the weapon back in it's place, the tribal slung his Pancor Jackhammer from his back and sprinted to the front of the store to flush the rest out.

Lunging over the counter that the little bitch of a clerk hid behind, he dropped kick another goon in the face. The man fell to his knees with a shriek as he smashed against the glass counter.

The orange-haired head honcho turned tail and ran as he finally realized what was going on. the others gave him a menacing glare _Pfft. New Reno druggies are scarier than this..._

Wrenching his head left, he was going to have to clear five more of the men—scratch that—four. The crazy girl just sent a guy out the window flying. All that was left now was over confident bitches that were ready to be slain.

Three men with guns, and one with an overly bright red sword were at the ready, Taking heed of the scenario, the tribal unleashed a burst on the three who couldn't aim their rinky dink toys in time.

Their organs became one with the wall that would satiate the needs of a fucked up artist, the final goon gave a swing of ferocity that was mere inches away from the Tribal's face.

Sad stories end sadly. The last goon's face was puréed as he was blasted to smithereens.

 _Four down, one more to go._ The thought raced through the Tribal's mind, no time was wasted as he launched himself out of the shattered window towards the last target.

The city lights were the only illumination as the orange-haired man fought with his cane against the oversized scythe that the girl wielded. _What the fuck?_ He threw the pure bewilderment away quickly after seeing the girl actually get her ass handed by him.

His Jackhammer still had six shells left, so far the only issue now was the orange-haired pretty boy was basically making the girl jump into his line of fire every single time.

The girl was nimble for sure. Way too nimble. Leaping and soaring through the air she was committed to her speed. clanging against the man's cane was surely an awe-inspiring sight.

Sadly she made a mistake

With one wayward swing the orange-haired man parried the large scythe sending it flying away from him.

He rushed in and landed a uppercut to her face sending her back a few feet

 _Fuck._ The Tribal raised his shotgun again, just as the man snapped his head to meet eyes.

/-/

For Patton, waking up in the middle of night for no reason whatsoever was a bad omen. On Earth, this usually entails getting chased by raiders who were doped up so much that they just ate bullets like some zombie Jet addict, or he would walk into a Deathclaw den and nearly become human filet mignon. But here, this feeling was more of apprehensiveness.

Maybe it was the fact it was Patton's and Blake's last day in the hotel room and he was worried about how Blake would react to actually having to tough it out in the wild and actually be in a tent. But hey, she was in a terrorist group, surely they prepared for this kind of shit.

 _Maybe I should get some air_. It was a smart choice in Patton's mind. The stale moldy air of the shitty room actually leaving his nostrils and him sucking in fresh air. To prevent as noise possible he did a _very_ slow roll off the bed and landed on all fours.

His hand grabbed around the nightstand before finally snatching his helmet (He always felt safe with it). Flat on his belly he dragged himself across the disgustingly damp floor until he made it to the door.

Patton (Successfully) snuck away and Blake didn't even raise an ear. _Mission accomplished mother fucker._

Patton though for a moment thought what would people would do at a moment like this, it was four-in-the-morning, people would either be still asleep or someone was out having a smoke from a disgraceful night of partying. Or just dead—that works too. That was until he heard a noise that sounded way to familiar

 _Sonuvabitch…_

Gun shots, not the dinky hey-guys-look-at-my-cool-new-toy Remnant weapons… But an _actual_ weapon. Each shot came one after another, some faster than the other, but none the less, whatever this was, shit was hitting the fan

Sucking air in between his teeth, and ending with an audible sigh, he was honestly getting tired of shit always happening. He was seventeen and already wanting retirement. Tough crowd.

Sprinting across the street the sound grew much louder, and peeking around a corner he saw what he expected and a little something more. The Tribal was gunning down guys in suits. That seems reasonable… Mostly. But what caught him off guard was that girl… _Holy shit.. It's her! Why the fuck is she in a shop at four in the fucking morning?!_

Wiping whatever thoughts that were already concocting in his head, he had business to do. Materializing All-American in his hands he ran back away from the ruckus and went into a nearby alley.

Finding a roof access was easy, but the ladder was hinged up so no regular joe-schmo could hop onto the roof. Sending a 5.56 it's way he blasted the ladder free and clambered up each rung.

Running up the metal steps he eventually hit the roof of the building, just perfect, the height basically let him view everything that was happening, even some of the goons that haven't entered the fray were hidden in adjacent alleys, that just wouldn't do—they were gonna cause a problem and if he could get them to freak the fuck out by shooting them in areas they thought were safe that would be dandy. The Tribal could turn those who ran into spaghetti sauce as they were shredded with buckshot. That's if most were dumb to actually run into the Tribal's sights.

Taking slow breaths, he lowered his heart rate as he laid the front grip of his All-American on a brick rampart and took his first shot.

It was an alleyway straight across from him, one goon who thought he was safe in cover was unlucky to be standing there. A 5.56 tore through center of mass and crumpled the man over.

The rest of the goons hiding? They didn't like it one bit, and broke for it, some were actually smart and ran deeper into the alley, avoiding them so Patton and the Tribal couldn't be able to gun them.

Most though went full retard and charged into the center street where the Tribal, Ruby, and Patton were at. The only unique person whom he partially recognized was the orange haired man he saw at the docks. Taking a quick shot at him as he ran he missed and wasn't able to give a good follow-up shot before he was able to break sight.

 _Damn it._ It didn't matter, now he basically had to be the guardian angel for the Tribal and Ruby. The cluster fuck they were now dealing with wasn't pretty, dealing with 30 goons at once, Ruby looked a bit bedraggled _That's what you get for not going to bed properly missy!_

Patton sent twelve more shots their way, the giant furball of goons were in mass hysteria, they knew they had more than two people attacking them, but they couldn't find Patton. The lot of them were just randomly shooting up into buildings into his general direction not accomplishing anything as Ruby pounded them down and the Tribal was lawn-mowering them.

When their large numbers were seriously being threatened as they were cut down they decided to actually split it and run.

Looking right _How nice, just in time._ The flamboyant goon was climbing the ladder of a building to board some weird jet-vertibird and was about to take off.

 _Not on my damn watch_. He dematerialized his All-American and instead replaced it with his Anti-Material Rifle. This thing was a dream with HEIAP ammo, and to Patton, this was fucking heaven to actually use it against a vehicle to see how badly he can fuck it up.

Without even thinking he fired at it's engine. Three things happened

He missed—only slightly—and it fucked up the cooling and nacelle so badly that if they didn't take off now and go land somewhere safely it was game over.

Scared the everliving shit out of the occupants of said vehicle.

Pretty sure it just cleared Patton's sinuses.

Patton was smart to _not_ take another shot at the engine. If this was Earth, he wouldn't have to give a damn. But there are actual people inside these buildings. Causing a whole aircraft to blow up right beside an apartment isn't the most survivable of things.

Someone for some reason was already dumb enough to slap autopilot on after a hit like that and leave the cockpit to engage Patton. But what Patton saw.. Holy…

She was hot—Fucking hot—that described her better. Lucious black hair, Voluptious thighs that would make a teenager go fucking wild, and amber eyes that looked as devious as equally seductive. Sadly he couldn't tell if she traded her brains for appearance since he was pretty sure that exposed engine seems to be mighty lonely without it's water cooling. She was letting it sit running and it was getting hotter and looked more prone to melting and just turning to shit.

It didn't matter, the flamboyant man was already on the roof with Ruby and the Tribal close behind. Ruby was able to quickly traverse her way up there. The Tribal on the other hand—he showed signs of slowing down. He arrived of course, but he was breathing way too heavily.

Patton shook his head out of all this idling. This was utter bullshit and he knew it too. He decided to do something that would really shake those two.

Cycling the bolt on his AMR, he aimed towards the tail of the the Jet-Vertibird-Thing. In particular, he was going to hit the shoot the rudder. While everyone was distracted he peered through his scope—steadying his breath he was ready to take the shot, that was until his scope was filled with bright light.

Instantly, he threw his head back, "Holy fucking shit!" he saw the aftermath of the explosion, it seemed Ruby was fine, and that the Tribal was… _Fucking damn it_. He was in his power armor. But now there was someone new? How did they get there? He fucking had no idea.

A woman wearing a strange cape with a purple inlay, a dress shirt, thin pencil skirt, and the normal office leggings. She… She didn't compare to the hottie up in the weird jet-thingy, then again, he didn't have a good view of her.

He saw the weird purple shield of "magic" dissipate, and with a swing of her wand, bright purple energy flew in a crazy pattern striking all over the aircraft. For Patton, this was fantasy level shit he's seen in old holotape movies. He just wished he had popcorn and a Nuka-Cola nearby.

The black-haired hottie seemed to trade positions with the orange-haired man, she was attempting to do something similar to what this weird witch woman did, but nonetheless, she was cut off by something even greater.

 _BRRRRRRTTT!_

A metric shit ton of bullets tore along the tail section. This made Patton jump as he initially didn't notice the Tribal's Vindicator Minigun going fucking nuts on the tail boom of the aircraft.

Patton's plan to just blast off their rudder was demolished as the Tribal basically had so many bullets punch through the vertical stabilizer and rudder that he literally tore it off. The elevator didn't have much luck as half of it seemed to be rendered inoperable and only a small portion of it would move.

The pilot must've been scared shitless as the vehicle whipped around and took off. The left engine was already turning red and on fire as it began limping away.

The deed was done, all was saved, and there was cake.

...Well, Patton wished that happened...

/-/

The Tribal sat there, head on hand, bored as fuck as he heard the small girl reprimanded. _Do I really need to be here? I just defended myself…. And did a lil' extra too._

Talking, talking, talking, talking… When the fuck will they be done? He was sure he was gonna get some prison sentence, or some shit like that.

He gazed around the bland room, one light bulb, all white room, and a door. Reminds him of old Holotape movies.

Getting up to attempt to leave the door opened; what showed was the women from earlier that "helped" during the skirmish.

She paced back and forth with a look on her face that screamed, "You dun goofed."

With a near growl she spoke vehemently, "Unlike her, you're an adult, you should know when to back away. But strangely enough, _you_ went on a killing spree. Things like this would lead to huge legal is-" The bitch woman was interrupted

The Tribal already felt a vein pop and a brain aneurism coming on, that woman talked to him like he was child and goes all "Blah blah you killed people blah blah." shaking his head the Tribal upstanding her, "What do you mean "legal"?! Men literally out to kill you?! I was getting shot at! People were actually trying to kill me!"

The witchy-bitchy woman rubbed her temples in pure frustration, "You're lucky." She groaned and opened her eyes, "With all these legal allegations that could come of this, people now can almost make self-defense and turn it into a murder case, now imagine that to twenty men?" She paused once more, she was red-faced holding in her anger, but suddenly cooled off as if she just relieved herself, "But nonetheless, someone is here to see you…"

The Tribal paused…

See him? Did Patton come around. Holy shit! Yes! Patton will save his a-

"So you're the man? It's a pleasure to meet you." A man with equally gray hair entered the room as the witch left with a sneer on her face.

"Yeah, you didn't know?"

"It was a rhetorical question. " The Gray haired man spoke softly.

For the Tribal, he didn't know what to think of him. His informal but at the same time down-for-business style look was something he had trouble reading, green shirt, dark green pants, a sweater, spectacles, and a cool looking cane. He had Pimp material, but his attitude was different.

Wetting his lips, the Tribal asked, "So I'm guessing something bad is going to happen right?" There was a pause, and the odd man smiled.

"I believe it's best we introduce ourselves first and foremost, wouldn't you agree?" the man extended a hand to the Tribal with a friendly look "I'm Professor Ozpin, it's a pleasure to meet you."

The Tribal wasn't believing this shit one bit and didn't take the hand. As far he knows he might be one of those shocker things inside of it. He's seen his fair share of cockamany bullshit. From being swindled out of some money to see a dumb ass mummy, to some fuckface trying to make him pay extra for his drink. He wasn't having any of it.

Shaking his head slowly the Tribal peered up with a questioning glare, "Alright _Ozpin_ tell me, what's gonna happen now?"

The door in the bland room opened again with the same woman entering, except she had weird pad with… Everything that happened!?

"I see you still seem to be stiff, I can learn your name later." With that same soft smile he asked, "Tell me, how were you able to do this?"

 _Great, fucker avoiding my question. Two can play at this game Ozpin._ The Tribal's eyes narrowed down at Ozpin, "You'll never get my apple pie recipe…"

Ozpin only raised an eyebrow in slight confusion, "I see… But I'm not here for that. I want to know how you were able to do this, reaction times faster than anyone I've seen before, your endurance because you were shot multiple times and yet you were fine. Most importantly, suddenly summoning weapons and that armor like that. A power truly unique."

The Tribal's nostrils flared, and eyes sharpened, "I told you… My recipe only belongs to the elite of waffle palace, Queen Jemimah will have her vengeance!"

Ozpin looked like he wasn't having any of it, his eyes as well narrowed, "I see, well, any legal allegations that could occur I'm sure of that you can handle on your own: A single man in a shop kills over twenty leaving damages from your guns."

 _Ah fuck…_ The Tribal barred his teeth, "I'm going to leave out some details, but, I've lived a life where I needed to try and survive." The Tribal's truth and actually brought a little hope that maybe he won't get fucked over. Sure the details he left out was basically everything but he hoped it would do.

Ozpin's straightened face mellowed back to the same softened smile to him, "I see, well. I noticed your friend in the video…" Ozpin motioned to the pad that the woman was still holding and clearly saw Patton taking shots from the rooftops.

 _Aw shit…_

"He's someone we've knew about thanks to him stopping an attempted bombing on a train recently." Ozpin's smile didn't grow but the Tribal had a feeling that Ozpin was happier than he looked, "In fact, there's video of the entire event while he was there helping you. You seem to know each other well…"

The Tribal was entirely silent with an apathetic expression. He didn't dare answer or else Ozpin would figure more shit out. Ozpin took this as a sign, "No worries, I won't pry further… But I have a position for you, You have all reason to decline, but if you do I won't be able to assist you of any legal troubles that may occur from this."

The Tribal already felt the horrid direction this was going, but he nonetheless felt obligated to answer, "Alright, shoot."

Ozpin nodded, straightening up, he sounded the offer, "I would like to give you a position at Beacon Academy…"

The woman's eyes widened in surprise and interjected, "O-Ozpin, do you really think that's a good id-"

"Glynda, no need to worry." Ozpin reassured her, though she still looked panicky.

The Tribal was now stuck with a decision… One that actually will affect his time on this world and he didn't know what to pick…

/-/

 **Alrighty, I wanted to steer away from Patton for a chapter, have something new for the Tribal, also this is my 2nd (I think third if you count the train) action sequence in the entire story. Chapter 4 was a mess and I hoped this chapter served as repentance.**

 **I'm having trouble getting the personalities of people like Ozpin down, so I also need your opinions on that guys. Secondly. Before you start thinking "Patton just brought an entire private army." You gotta understand. Setting up an entire base takes a while, with context clues you can tell they won't be called upon or make any entrance for a while.**


	11. Chapter 11

The offer was too enticing, it sounded too good to be true, most likely it was, and in a situation like this the Tribal took any ounce of suspicion he had and turned it up to eleven.

With a cool look on his face he asked, "Why me? You had another candidate right there, right? Able to respond without anyone asking and then suddenly help save the day?"

Ozpin replied with the same soft smile that was stuck on his face the second he arrived in the interrogation room and leaned on his cane, "We chose you based off your abilities, but for your friend, it's simply because we already offered him a student position at Beacon. We could identify easily Blake Belladonna due to birth certificates and records. But him? Well, he is a special case. We know nothing about him. It's not too unusual someone born in villages outside of jurisdiction of the cities and towns to not have much documentation." Ozpin shifted weight on his cane, "It's not strange either to see some unique people come and go here, but this young man is able to fight Adam Taurus on equal footing, even taking substantial injury and coming out fine the next day. We see him in you, but seeing as how capable you both are gives me judgement to invite you both to my school."

The Tribal digested all the information that he could. In some circumstances it made sense. But at the same time… A school? With a quizzical look, the Tribal asked, "What do you mean school? By the looks of you, this isn't some military academy, or anything above. Why do you want someone who can kill?"

Ozpin only sighed, "I see, you must be from outside too, it's strange to hear of someone who doesn't know about Beacon, but let me assure you, this isn't a Military Academy under the guise of a school for Huntsmen. We are genuinely a Huntsman academy, we're here to serve the people and protect them from the threats of Grimm."

The Tribal barely had an idea of what the fuck Grimm were, the only source of knowledge he had was from those magazines he read in that store before everything turned to shit. He actually thought those were fictional creatures from some shitty comic book that was getting a ton of publicity.

"So why do you think I'm good for a Huntsman Academy?"

Ozpin's smile darkened to a look of melancholy, and with a more somber tone he spoke, "You must understand, what you did tonight is what huntsmen and huntresses' sometimes are required to do. We aren't wholly for fending off Grimm, but more specifically the protection of the people, it isn't a situation anyone wants to be in. But for my students, they'll need all the training they can get. So far, my assistant Glynda has classes for mock battles, but training is something done on the student's own free time, something akin to homework. Sadly, some won't train or their training is inadequate." Ozpin paused for a second, "That's why I offer this position to you, I wish for you to train the students with a strict regiment against human opponents. They need this to save their lives and others." Ozpin's expression brightened and spoke with determination, "I need you to help them. Will you kindly accept my offer?"

The Tribal thought about this, he had these "Offers" before and he knew it was bullshit, and cutting through all the emotional cheese, he took it like this, "Teach my students and I'll clear your name, or be fucked." Or that's what he thought at least.

With a click of his tongue the Tribal made his answer, "No thanks, I'm good."

The Tribal knew he practically mind-fucked Ozpin by saying that. Ozpin slipped so many sugared-up words he was already half-way expecting to have diabetes, the Tribal didn't buy shit like that. With all the "Oh no! You have to save the world and shit!" Yeah…. No. Stuff like that doesn't work on him. If he was selling some shitty jet to a druggie who was trying to quit, it might've worked, but to the Tribal? No.

This led to one issue… Why did they want him so badly? This is what worried him—so in his mind—the best course of action would be to directly confront this bullshittery.

"Alright Ozpin. Tell me. Why are you essentially sucking my dick to get me to join your preschool? I hate fucking kids, they disrespect elders and act like they know what to do. I'm not a masochist and enjoy that stuff. So tell me your little secret like the super villain you are."

Ozpin's eyes instantly narrowed, "We're sorry if you don't like our offer, but my school has a name to uphold, I can't let my students simply fall by the wayside and receive an improper education while being understaffed. The vetting process is already difficult enough with all of our faculty barely able t-"

The Tribal shot up as he cut off Ozpin and spat words like bullets, "What the fuck does that got to do with me? I don't give a _damn_ if you're understaffed! I don't give a _damn_ about your kids either! They're all brats and you're all giving the Drifter the biggest fucking sham someone could fall for! You're literally calling a military academy under a different name. That's what it sounds like… So—again tell me—why do you put so much cockamany shit in your words?!"

He fucking knew it. There were people more qualified, but for some reason _he_ was the one that they selected, they were even willing to bypass the whole vetting process for his ass.

There was silence from Ozpin but the Tribal growled under his breath, "It sucks that I'm not stupid huh?" Glynda could only stare daggers at the Tribal, what worried him though was that they just weren't telling, he wasn't really going to attempt to try and leave, more confrontations are the last thing he wants, but he really, really, wanted to leave. He didn't want this bullshit any further

With bated breath the Tribal spoke again, "Sorry, but I think it's my time to go." He strided around the insignificant table, head held high, he was ready to make a break for it.

Glynda stepped a foot out to confront him, though the glare Ozpin gave quickly silenced that action.

The only sounds left in the room was the shut of the door.

Glynda couldn't stop staring at that same door, she felt as if she should have done something at least. She felt so useless! She looked towards Ozpin with a reassuring look, "Ozpin… I know I doubted your judgement, but I didn't know this could go so terribly wrong."

Ozpin could only shake his head at the condolences, "Miss Goodwitch, there's nothing to worry about." Ozpin raised his hand up to show Glynda his scroll, "Me and Qrow have discussed this, we had contingencies in case this offer went wrong."

Glynda tilted her head, _Ozpin never talked to me about this?_ "What do you mean 'contingencies.'?"

/-/

The food-court was busy like it always was, the customers were happy, but some were staring in concern, and others in strange amusement. Blake was dripping with sweat as it completely soaked her seat, she didn't expect this to take long based from what Patton said, but this was more than she expected!

"Blake, quit pussy-footing around, you finally got your break!" Patton was fucking tired of this moaning and groaning.

 _I'm tired!_

 _It's too hot!_

 _My legs hurt!_

To Patton, Blake was being a little bitch. Sure they walked an entire grid pattern across the commercial district non-stop for his map on his Pip-Boy, even if Blake did say that, "There's maps you can buy!" Sure he could do that and add it to his Pip-Boy, but first of all, he didn't want to deal with that shit. Secondly, those maps were complete and utter ass. Some of the maps actually had the commercial district overlapping in some areas like the upper class and industrial areas. But lucky for Blake, they stopped in the perfect place!

Blake downed another bottle of water, she was "enjoying" a tuna sandwich that she hasn't even taken a bite from yet, in between gasps and gulps she wheezed, "What's wrong with you!" She finished another bottle of water and steadied her breath, "I thought you said the trip was 'short'!"

Patton could only shrug his shoulders as Blake shoved her face nearly to the floor with an air vent blasting cold air, "I mean, it was short when you think about it, just a lot of criss-crossing."

Blake barely listened, her poor, poor legs were so sore. She felt as if she couldn't walk, they felt like jelly, "Patton, your definition of 'short' isn't very short." Blake groaned as she can feel her leggings being permeated with sweat as she massaged her calves.

Patton leaned an arm on the table chuckling at her misfortune, "Pfft, I'm practically non-stop all the time, my problem is when we get to Beacon I actually have to sit still for once!"

Blake laid her face on the cold table, sadly it too quickly accumulated a slippery layer of sweat from her arm, "P-Patton… I literally need a foot rub or at least carry me around."

Patton could only shake his head at breakneck speeds at her suggestions, "Ha! Fuck that. First, I ain't into feet. They stinky, and I just don't like'm. Secondly Blake, how much you weigh again? A hundred pounds? A hundred and five or somethin'? Sorry Blakey-poo, an extra hundred pounds on my back won't feel good."

Her face could only look up with pure agony and tiredness as she nearly seemed to beg with a bedraggled voice, "Please don't make me walk again…"

Patton grew to know when Blake honestly was being serious about it—this was one of those times. He only gave a sigh in advance. He was learning womanology quickly, "Blake you stay there, I'll be back alright?"

Blake only groaned as she laid face first on the table of her own sweat, Patton gave her a pat on the back only to rub the excess fluids on the side of his pants.

Patton looked behind himself and into the main shopping area, bright colorful signs lit the main plaza of the mall, and each little outlet was grouped with other appropriate shops in probably some microcosm of aggressive marketing. What caught his eye out of all the clothing shops, instrument stores, appliance suppliers and Edgy Kids R' Us' was a record shop, no literally, records. Patton didn't even know they had fucking records on Remnant. Who knew?

Walking to the entrance it was smaller compared to other stores and inside was a radio buzzing inside playing "Classic" rock. The store was jam packed with a multitude of records, of course there were VHS tapes too. It made Patton feel old as a small child pointed to one and asked his father what it was.

Flipping through the records none of them are what they were like back home. But really, what did he expect honestly? He wasn't going to find Bing Crosby anywhere… That was until he stumbled upon a record by Ding Hrosby… Ding mother fuckin' Hrosby… He wanted to just buy it for shits and giggles. Picking up the sleeve he went to checkout, the store's radio played "Breaking" news, "A gunfight near the store led to the deaths of 27 different men, all of whom had a hand in trying to rob the establishment…"

Ohh…. Fuck that! He knew T was getting reported on, including himself, he didn't like that. He hurried his way through check-out, almost throwing the lien at the cashier and he left that store in a fucking flash. He wanted nothing of it.

Walking back to the Blake's sorry ass she looked slightly better, that's if groaning constantly equals better though.

Patton actually felt bad now, she couldn't eat whatsoever, so he digitized her sandwich for later and crouched down to actually offer her to let her piggy-back ride him. She was _elated_.

She grunted as she wrapped her arms around his body, trying to get a good grasp, but in the end she kept slipping with the still excess sweat, but finding purchase on the ridges of his breast plate she was able to keep a hold.

"Alrighty Blake, let's go, you must be dead tired." Patton tried to look behind himself, though he can barely see a thing, Blake was head first on his back asleep.

/-/

Face buried in a cool pillow, Blake loved this sensation. She felt as if she was the happiest girl alive at this point, the feeling of burning alive was gone, while she still ached slightly, the cool air helped make the pain dissipate and disappear. She was too happy, and felt as if nothing could stop this euphoric feeling.

"Blake? You up yet? You slept for like, seven fucking hours."

Oh yeah… Him…

She really didn't want to deal with him right now, especially considering they literally walked almost every block in this damn district.

"Blake! C'mon! Get up!" Patton blared again

Blake just groaned. _Please! Please stop! I want to sleep more, don't ruin this!_ Her mind shouted, yet no words came through. Thankfully there was silence…

That was until the voice of Patton mere centimeters away from Blake's ear spoke, " _I'm gonna do it Blake._ "

Her eyes snapped open, "Wait. Wha-"

 _SMACK_

Patton smiled, he was glad that he did this early in life… Something that he never expected to do… He might've ruined his friendship with Blake though.

A good smack on the ass. That woke her up for damn sure. She shot like a rocket just comprehending what just happened, she gripped her right cheek and realized just what happened

"P-Patton… D-did you do what I think you did?" Blake stuttered in utter disbelief at what just happened.

Patton fucking high-fived himself, "Damn straight! My first time doing that and I feel like a god!" He fell to his knees, arms raised, and laughed maniacally, "Woohoo!"

Blake… She didn't want to raise her voice. She went silent. Silent treatment always works

She was furious! He just smacked her ass like he's known her all his life yet she doesn't even know what his damn face looks like! Blake's teeth were clenched, as she marched over to a seat in the corner of the room and read her book. If he tried to come to look her face-to-face, she would close her book, cross her arms and look away.

"Sorry 'bout that Blake, I gotta be a man and wake you up sometimes." He got no response, "Blake?"

Blake still didn't say anything.

Patton wasn't surprised, or felt bad—well he did feel bad—but it was probably because Blake was disappointed. He hated it when girls did that. Even if it was one of his peers. He felt like a child, averting eyes. Though that issue is easily resolved if someone tries to kill him, but someone he knew and actually did care about? It hurt. It was awkward, they both went silent and did both of their own things, on opposite ends of the room.

It was quiet for an hour, it was like two siblings after a fight, neither wanted to really attempt to talk to each other, difference being they weren't family, they were friends and could easily leave each other if need be. That was Patton's thinking at least.

Blake passed the time reading her book, every couple of minutes a page was flipped, and she kept reading, eyes glued to the book.

Patton just looked at his Pip-Boy. Counting and cataloging all the weapons and gear he has acquired over years in the wasteland. R91's, his AER9's, a M72 gauss rifle. Everything he has collected, including some items that did bring back painful memories. The Lone Wanderer and Courier. They were swell guys, but something he didn't want to think a lot about, just shove those thoughts in the back of his head.

He regularly looked back at Blake while she read her book, he felt like he kicked a puppy.

 _Ah fuck it, go big or go home._ He was good at lying and bullshitting people to believe him, but being genuine and apologizing was always hard, no matter who you were. In his mind he took a leap of faith. Turning his chair around completely in the direction of Blake, he already piqued her attention, yet quickly turned away to her book. That was when she heard a sound that caused her shoulders to raise.

Silence was shattered when she heard the sounds of straps and buckles being undone. She felt awkward, _Is he undressing?_ She listened, too scared to look, she kept reading her book.

"Hey Blake," Patton's voice stabbed the empty room, "Sorry for earlier." He felt weird apologizing for her ass. To be honest though, she did have a good one.

"Yeah it's alright." She still didn't turn to see Patton.

"Uh… Blake." Patton tilted his head in utter confusion, "I know you heard what I was doing, you know I'm not naked right? You can actually look at me."

Blake still didn't want to turn, to be honest. Even if she did see his face she wouldn't know what to think. She grew too accustomed of associating his mask as his actual face. She knew there was a face under there, but she felt weird actually thinking about it.

"I know Patton, It's just—I'm still angry with you." Blake sounded unsure, very unsure about how she felt.

"Blake, that sounded like an absolute crock of shit and you know it." Patton was just confused as fuck. Was this her way of fucking with him? Or was she really feeling unsure?

She was pissing her pants for no reason, Patton decided to take it upon himself to show himself. Taking a proud stride towards Blake he planted himself right in front of her on the floor looking up at the Faunus.

"See? Ain't so bad right?" Patton's breastplate and duster were gone. He had a Khaki Nomex workman's shirt. A basic banded collar too. Without all the extra gear, he had a noticeable belt with a holster and a large, ornate revolver in it. To Blake, he almost looked like a cowboy missing his hat.

"Blake?" Patton was getting scared now. She wasn't saying jackshit, instead she had a weird—smile?

Blake was able to get a full look on his face. Dull blue eyes, dusty, tousled, blonde hair in a crew cut that almost resembled what a G.I. would've had. His face wasn't a whole entire marvel to look at. A slight crook in his nose from when it was broken from what seemed many years ago and small marring on his face from exposure to the elements.

"So that's what you look like." Blake raised an eyebrow with a crook of a smile.

Patton's eyes narrowed, "Now hold the fuckin' phone, I can already tell that look. I ain't the prettiest fuck around. But don't you dare do that shit to me!"

Blake could only smile even wider, was screwing with him an option? Yes, yes it was. But was she going to stoop that low? No. Patton officially was someone close to her. Someone she actually could rely on. She tapped her chin like she was appraising his face and said, "Yeah. You don't look ugly," She traced her finger along the crook of Patton's nose, "But you might need some… Improvements..."

His shoulders drooped. He didn't know what to take of that. Actually, when he thought about it, the Think Tank basically cybernetically enhanced him and turned him into the seven-million dollar man, but they couldn't fix his fucking face. His. Fucking. Face.

In some way to grasp at some kind of adequacy he asked her,"Eh… At least I'm presentable right?" Patton shrugged in an attempt to mend his cracked pride.

Blake chuckled, "Just a little, you still look like you wallow in the mud" Her face straightened out, the cheery look turned to an expression of feigned annoyance, "But you know, I'm still a bit angry—and hungry—maybe you should get me a tuna sand-" She was cut off

Almost instantly, Patton digitized her Tuna Sandwich from earlier, it was still cold. Pre-war technology at it's finest, "Here."

Her eyes widened, "I-is that safe to actually eat?" She cautiously poked the mysteriously cold sandwich with a finger

"No duh, I got cola for damn days when I used to collect the ever living shit outta them!"

Blake just blinked and bit the bullet—or more like—the sandwich.

Patton just twiddled his thumbs while she chomped down on the sandwich before asking, "So we good now?"

With food still stuffed in her mouth she tried to speak, "Mhmm!"

Patton had to breathe a sigh of relief. His father was always right. He sometimes didn't understand a word his father said, but he understood it now. Women sometimes require a shit ton of making up to.

Blake already had trouble to keep a straight face while eating. From his harsh demeanor, his hard headedness and somewhat violent tendencies, he was far from evil. She was lucky to meet someone like him…

/-/

The Tribal had to warn the Drifter. That fucking man was nuts, if he had to worry only about him that'd be fine, but institutionalized crazies? That's something he didn't need. His mind was screaming Enclave and Enclave means Frank Horrigan and Frank Horrigan means something he never wanted to fight again.

He ran from alleyway to alleyway paranoid with the thought that these people were gonna try to track him, and using a radio transmission feels risky as Hell. First things first is that Patton was going to attend the school. So he would find that first, so he could just find Patton when he was about to arrive there that would be the easiest but most conspicuous idea. _Fuck me, what do I do!?_

Running around just trying to find him was a terrible idea, he might as well go on a wild goose chase. If he had nothing else then there was something he could do...

He was going to have to use that dish again and make another signal…

It was already dark, and was completely fine with that. A few stealth boys wouldn't kill him either if he had to use them. The main issue is to find a suitable location. The higher the better, but most likely Patton isn't some super high-rise building or in a shitbox of a building. This would probably be the best idea.

Running through the night, he ran through alleyways trying to find a roof access. That's when he found one. It was near an especially familiar place. That small store. The Tribal smiled when he saw the destroyed cheap locks on the rusted, rickety ladder.

Clambering up the ladder, the Tribal digitized his dish again along with his Ham radio.

With some dialing in, the Tribal nearly just shouted, he disregarded any kind of formalities, "Patton! Fucking listen!" There was only static, he assumed that Patton didn't have his radio setup, "Beacon is up to shit!" There was nothing really to say besides that and the Tribal kept repeating what he said until the static ended and Patton voice creeped out

"T! Jesus Christ! What're you talking about!?"

The Tribal already sounded bedraggled, "Beacon is up to shit, we need to meet up tomorrow. This shit isn't worth it!"

Patton didn't understand, "Alright, Listen, we'll meet up on Casper street, then you can tell me everything then alright?"

T could only sigh, "Alright. Tomorrow?"

Patton's voice parsed through the transceiver, "Yup, tomorrow."

The Tribal slumped with a dead tired expression on his face. he was hoping to explain everything soon, and he'd be able to get the Drifter from that damn school.

 **Alright guys, I like the reviews you people gave me! Even if it did tear into my story I'm excited to use reviews as a guide line. I know if my story seemed a bit "Similar to the point" like one reviewer put, but I was sure not to try something like that. So no, T won't be a doormat hopefully. Now this chapter? Eh... I'm not into Blake and Patton fluff. It just comes off as awkward and I wanted them to fight like a couple, and you guys finally know what Patton's face is like!**

 **I have trouble liking that scene to be honest, I wanted Patton's face shown at a more pivotal moment, and I didn't want it to be some cutesy moment. If you guys had any issues let me know!**


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